[Mature] Westward To The Heart [Kach x DuchessLivilla]

[Kach]

Priscilla woke to a feeling that something wasn't right. She opened her eyes to her dark room, split by narrow cracks of light that shone between the edges of blinds that struggled to hold the late morning sun at bay. The house was quiet, but that was hardly unusual. Perhaps she had over slept on one of the few days her mother had not stopped in to rouse her during her morning routine? She really needed to stop staying up so late, deep in books. It was really quite distressing to be out of sorts and groggy all morning when there were lessons to prepare for.

Crawling from her bed, she studiously made it in the dim light before she went over to the wash basin to freshen up. Her brow furrowed at the room temperature water meeting her porcelain hands.
Odd, Miss Libby always brought warm water up from the kitchen in the morning for her to wash with, even if she did sleep late. Had she really slept that long? Perhaps the servant needed a reminder of her duties. Quickly and uncomfortably, she washed. Her stomach grumbled at the late hour for breakfast and she left her room, still in her night gown and cap.
Surely it could not be late enough in the day she would be scorned by her mother for laying about...

Exiting her room, the hall was dark too. The window at the end of the hall had not been opened and the lamps were unlit. It was very peculiar indeed. Priscilla recalled the last time something like this happened, one of their previous servants, a miserable old woman, died in the night. The other servants hardly did anything for a week in a languorous morose. She dreaded the thought of what would be left undone if that were the case.

As she walked down the hall to the front stairs, she heard the sounds of light crying and soft voices drifting up from the parlor; she grimaced. Slowly picking her way down the stairs she strained to hear what was being said.

"Now, now, Miss. Everything is going to be all right." The familiar brassy tone assured. "Miss. Gardner will take care of everything. She has a good head on her shoulders."

'Miss Gardner'? Why were they talking about her?

"Once you have had a few moments to calm yourself, you can go fetch her, and I will break the news." Another less familiar voice informed more than assured.

Who are they going to fetch??

Priscilla rounded the bottom of the stairs at the landing and headed through the open French doors to the parlor. Miss Libby was sitting on one of the sofa's, mothers favorite; printed with flowers on a pink background, dabbing her red eyes with a hand kerchief. Priscilla cocked an eyebrow; the servants were not allowed to sit on the sofa's. Especially when they had visitors! Mister Jeb knelt beside her, big hand on her shoulder, looking grim despite the reassuring smile that bent his lips.
Mister Wendell Patrick Gardener, her uncle, her father's brother, stood opposite the small coffee table, looking rather uncomfortable at the display. He seemed more than happy to turn away from the pair and face Priscilla as she entered the room. Miss Libby let out a renewed sob, apparently at the sight of
her, and Mister Jeb's eyes dropped to the floor.

Odd. Uncle Wendell did come to visit often, but only with her father. He had never shown any interest in the servants before...
She felt anger begin to rise in her chest. Not only had Libby not preformed her morning duties, but now she caterwauled while guests were in their home! She doubted that her father had even been informed he had a visitor yet! Pushing it down, she gracefully curtsied to her uncle, as a proper lady should; her cheeks reddening slightly at remembering she was still in her night gown.
"Good morning Uncle, shall I fetch my father for you?"
In truth, she had no idea where her father was yet, but someone had to remember their senses this mourning.
A grim look crossed her uncles face. Priscilla didn't understand why. Had she done something wrong? Surely he wouldn't hold her responsible for this pair's lack of decorum. That coal of anger grew hotter in her belly.
"I am afraid Priscilla." He began carefully. Still looking uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to begin an apology for the failings of their servants when he continued. "Your mother and father. Died last night. Their buggy overturned."
A fresh wail escaped from Miss Libby and Uncle Wendell continued. Priscilla didn't register anything after that. Something clicked inside her, and she suddenly felt very heavy.



The following days, she didn't register how many there were, blurred together. One moment she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the next, out in the blazing sun the sounds of horse shoes on cobbles stones echoing in her ears and distant conversation. An office with the smell of Tabaco smoke and the rhythmic voice of a spectacled man reading to her. She didn't hear what he was saying, but the movements of his mouth, the flashing of yellow teeth made her feel ill.
Then she was in a field, the warm air carried floral scents and the sounds of birds. Two beautiful wooden boxes stood open, side by side. Her Father in one, her Mother in the other.
They looked so, peaceful. It felt like a lifetime since she had last seen them. She missed them dearly. Her chest tightened and she gasped. An arm wrapped around her, pulling her into the side of a black suited man, and she cried. Between ragged breaths she burried her face into the chest of the man holding her tight. She never knew anything could hurt this badly.

[DuchessLivilla]

News of the death of his brother had reached Wendell less than an hour after the event occurred, in the early hours of the morning. Rather than go at once to his now orphaned niece, and tell her, then comfort her -he would later claim he did not think it decent to awaken a young lady with such news- Wendell instead spent the precious time, when only he knew he had won, or so he thought to himself, making plans of his own.

He did wake his son, and inform him, telling the lad to hold himself ready for the future but he made no outward mention of what he had done, or intended to do. He then left the house, returning only in the morning to change before he set off to inform his niece that her world had just changed, forever.

She took the news as well as he had imagined and it found it tedious indeed to play nurse to her as she wept. He was glad to give that task to his wife, and he busied himself with the funeral arrangements -and secret meetings with his lawyer- while the womenfolk wailed.

Wendell, if he was honest, which was rare, found the entire situation irritating. He knew his niece was going to be upset, but really, did she have to be hysterical? A thought had then occurred to him, as he stood at the grave of his brother and sister-in-law...If his dear niece would not consent to his plan, might he not have her declared insane and unfit to inherit? It would not be so hard. One needed only two doctors to agree...And he was sure he could 'inspire' them to the right decision with a heavy billfold.

It was certainly an idea if all else fail.

As he stood, stroking Pricilla's back and murmuring comforting words that he did not mean, he smiled a cruel smile. He would have his way. It was his damn turn. How long had he waited? Too long. That was for sure.

-

Wendell may have been a cruel, selfish and money-grabbing man but he was not entirely without a heart...And so he allowed his niece 3 days to cry and mourn and do whatever it was ladies do when alone, before he arrived at the fine townhouse in his carriage. He left his son at home, for now, judging the news might be easier to take if he came alone.

As he stepped into the entrance way he removed his hat and nodded to the servant who had let him in. He didn't know his name, nor did he care to learn it. He did not even know his own servant's names by heart, aside from his valet. "Tell Miss Pricilla I am here to see her, on a matter of some urgency. I shall await her in the drawing room. And bring me something to drink," he added, in an attempt to make his authority clear.

He strode past without waiting for a reply and made himself comfortable in said drawing room. As he sat, his gaze found the portrait of his brother and his wife above the fire. A grand affair, in stiff poses and lifeless stares. He smirked as he looked at it. "Lifeless, indeed," he thought smugly. Soon his problems would all be gone. He would have all he had ever wanted...all he was owed from life, finally, in his hands.


The Meadows Ranch - 2 Miles from the town of Silver Creek

As per usual, Arthur Ross was the first to emerge from his small cottage that morning, long before anyone else and just before dawn. He leant on the railing of the sagging porch of his home and looked over over the ranch, bathed as it was in hazy early morning light. A small, almost hardly there smile, pulled at his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"A fine day," he thought, sipping the strong coffee he had brewed for himself. He liked this time of the day best of all; before anyone else was up and it was quiet and still...If he cared to, and he often did, he would let his mind drift back to similar days, when he would awake under bright canvas to the sounds of birds and a camp coming to life.

But not today. It would only bring sadness if he carried on thinking of it. Best such thoughts were left until evening, when he could be alone with them and not have them mar his expression all day.

Instead he drained his coffee cup and returned inside, placing it upon the stone sink before pulling on his tanned jacket, over his shirt and suspenders. He gave the place a final glance then grabbed his well-worn but cherished black leather hat, adorned with an aged piece of twine about it. If one looked closely there was, in one place, an old and very brown bloodstain.

He left the house, pulling closed the door with a soft click, before descending the two rickety stairs, putting on his hat as he did so. He stretched and set off with a purposeful walk towards the stables by the main house; normally called by all staff as 'the big house'.

Arthur always began his day with tending to his and the other horses; a habit left over from a time when one needed one's horse more than anything else. Not to mention, even if he would never admit it, he was a sentimental soul and had a great fondness for his mare, a fine black creature who seemed to understand her master more so than any other thing, man or beast.

By the time that job was done, the sun was just creeping over the ranch and he could hear sounds of life coming from all over.

Another day had begun.

[Kach]

"There, now isn't that better Young Miss?" Libby remarked warmly as she fussed with the last curls of Priscilla's hair, tucking the ends of the long brown braids and pinning them in place.
Priscilla was lost in the reflection in the mirror, wishing she could remain in the comfort of her bed. What was the point of getting dressed? She had no appetite, an no desire to leave her house, let alone her room. Too many reminders of who was lost.

Libby continued to insist on waking, dressing, and attempting to feed her, despite her protests and foul mood; with a warm mothering smile. Had it been a week earlier, Priscilla would have scolded the woman for babying her. Libby began humming the tune to Simple Gifts as she took the small tray of make-up from the dresser and began brushing rouge onto Priscilla's ghostly cheeks. Taking a step back to admire her work, a knock came at the door, the familiar heavy sound of Mister Jebb's fist.
"Come in." Miss Libby chimed, not waiting for Priscilla's answer. The woman was really forgetting herself, Priscilla frowned.

The door cracked half way open. Down cast eyes in the dark stoic face of Mister Jebb were usual, but the man had been grim since the news. Priscilla had chalked it up to a reflection of her own melancholy.

"Mister Wendell Gardner is urgently here to see the Young Miss; he is waiting in the drawing room." His brassy voice echoed around the quiet room.

"The Young Miss will be right down." Libby chimed, speaking out of turn. Mister Jeb offered a solemn nod and backed out, closing the door. "See," Miss Libby sang as she fussed with loose hairs and wrinkles on Pricilla's dress, "you have a visitor! A fine to-do it would have been for a caller to find you still wrapped in your sheets."

Priscilla had hardly said more than a dozen words to her uncle before... that fateful day. And hardly a dozen more since. When ever he had come over to talk business with her father, she had been hustled elsewhere; no need to get involved in men's business. She recalled one instance when she was six or seven, her mother had expressed a dislike for the man in private, but Priscilla's prying was met with dismissals and it was never mentioned again. She had no love for the man, but had to begrudge him some good will for comforting her in this difficult time.

Rising to urgently attend her uncle as much as avoid further preening, Priscilla wavered, her vision darkening. It was late into the morning and she was feeling the affects of not eating well the past few days. Firmly brushing Libby's hands from her arm, she smoothed her skirts and marched to her door, the staccato of Libby's foot falls trailing behind.

It was a short walk to the well appointed drawing room, the door was open. Priscilla paused at the edge of the door frame, taking a breath and steeling herself. Entering the room slowly, she offered a deferential nod to her uncle, expecting him to rise to greet the current Lady of the House. "Good morning uncle." She welcomed smoothly with just enough warmth not to appear cool.
He sat comfortably on the chaise facing the painting of her parents, nearly empty drink in his hand. She carefully avoided looking at the wall it hung on as she moved to the arm chair her father had favored opposite her uncle.

[DuchessLivilla]

Wendell indeed rose and gave a small smile. "Dear niece, I am pleased to see you up and about...Grief...it is a terrible thing but we cannot let it control us, nor ruin our lives. Your dear, dear parents," he said, his eyes staying to the painting once more, "Would be most disheartened to know you hide yourself away and cry. You are a woman alone now and you must show strength or you shall be lost."

He smiled, a smile that did not reach his eyes. "You need not add to your woes with thoughts of the business, I have spoken to the lawyers and all is in hand; myself and Henry, you remember your cousin, of course, shall have it all set to rights. You need not worry yourself about any of it...It is, after all, not fit work for a Lady," he nodded, as if this was all for her benefit, and in any case she'd not understand it anyway.

He gestured to the seat opposite him, as if this was his drawing room and she his guest rather than the other way around. "Now, there are a few matters we must talk of, as painful as they may be...Best you take a seat, my dear," he smiled again. This was hardly the way a may who had lost a beloved brother should look. Wendell appeared as if he had just been elected president or some such. Or else all his horses had come up winners.

"Pricilla, my dear niece...You know I have always been mighty fond of you, and I am deeply proud of the woman you've become," he paused, nodding and trying to appear warm and caring. "But sadly, child, you are now alone in this world and it's not a place for a woman alone. I do not know if your father ever spoke to you of marriage and suitors...perhaps not, after all, he thought he had plenty of time..."

Wendell sighed. Anyone who didn't know what a cold man he was might have thought he was deeply aggrieved at his brother's death. It was, almost, comical to watch. "But now you have no more time. You must, I fear, wed swiftly in order to protect yourself and your reputation. I am sure you know, a lady's reputation is worth more than her wealth. One wrong word to the wrong person can ruin you."

It wasn't, quite, a threat, but it was clear enough the risk.

"I think, and I am sure your father would have agreed and been supportive, that, when of course your mourning period is over, you should consider, most keenly, marriage to a suitable young man of means." He smiled again, taking it was clear, a perverse pleasure in drawing this out as long as he had, "And I have just the young man in mind...Your cousin Henry is a fine lad, well born, with excellent standing and it would unite the two branches of the family together. The business must be protected like a rare animal, my dear, and this marriage would ensure that."

[Kach]

Hands rested across her lap delicately as she looked at the polished mahogany table in the drawing room, her uncle's reflection was slightly blurred.

Another lecture.

There had been too many lectures in the last few days. The dry sort, that told of the virtues of a short respectful grief that could not be allowed to turn into a melancholy. Where did anyone, including her uncle, get off talking about her parents? God rest their souls, they were dead and gone. What they had wanted mattered little now. Still, she clenched her jaw as she struggled to keep her hands relaxed. She was not hiding.

She had a vague awareness of the business of her father, it had been of little interest, and he seldom spoke of it in much detail other than to say that this acquaintance or that had a well-to-do son or nephew that she should make the acquaintance of. Priscilla did feel some gratitude, despite her indifference to the man, for seeing to the business. She hadn't thought of it at all in the flurry of events since the news, but it was reassuring to hear that she might not be entirely alone.

The mention of Henry brought a concealed grimace. It had been some time since she had seen her cousin, but they had played frequently together when they were young. A frustratingly obstinate boy at her last recollection.

The pause caught her attention in time for her to look up and see her Uncle's gesture. Hesitating a moment, she met his gaze, flat eyes watching flat eyes, before braking it and moving to take a seat gracefully. She smoothed her skirts delicately as he began talking again, caressing the wrinkles out of existence.

She paused, tensing as he began. They were not words she had been expecting, or ready to hear. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the man. Her mother had said, 'Men never use honey unless they are looking to catch something.' Priscilla couldn't recall any other time her Uncle had seemed kindly or warm.

The mention of marriage curdled her empty stomach and banished the little appetite she had leaving a gnawing knot. Her father had often joked of suitors and marriage, while her mother had schooled her in the finer points of womanly duties. All of it had not left her with an appetite for the topics. Was this what he wanted? To marry her off to make it her new husband's problem? She had hardly met any man she could tolerate, let alone marry. And it seemed he didn't intend to take 'no' as an answer.

As he spoke, she steeled herself for what would come, but at the mention of marrying her cousin Henry, the calm serene face she had been working hard to maintain shattered. She felt queasy for a moment before a molten heat burned in her chest. Her cheeks flushed red, easily taken for embarrassment if not for her scowl.

She rose, her hands fists, clenched on her skirts. "You forget yourself uncle." Priscilla growled, suddenly feral. "Take no offense, I am grateful for your guidance; but I will not allow you, or anyone, to force me into a marriage." She fumed, her anger only half from the grief at the loss of her parents. "I think you should see yourself out." Her brown eyes blazed and her fists were nearly white on handfuls of skirts.

[DuchessLivilla]

Wendell, who had expected some outburst, was rather amused by this and let her say her piece before he stood up and fixed her with his cold eyes. "No, dear child, you forget yourself. I am a well-respected man in our fine city, with connections to other well-respected men, and my wife is friends with their wives. You are a silly young lady, with no family now, but myself, no security but your perceived virtue and future dowry, and, if I abandon you, no future but the poor house or some vile bordello."

He sipped his drink and watched her before carrying on. "One word in the right ear, my dear, and you shall be worthless; no man wishes to have spoilt goods as a wife, and no society hostess shall admit a ruined woman. You shall lose any prospect of a good marriage, and be an outcast. My lawyers shall seize this house and your father's shares, as is my right as his partner. You shall be alone, damned and penniless...

So, I suggest you change your views rather quickly and accept my gracious offer. You shall marry Henry, and benefit from your wealth and current good standing in society, or if you refuse, by this time tomorrow everyone will think you a depraved little harlot, who is no better than she ought to be."

[Kach]

The inferno that burned inside Priscilla suddenly shrunk as her uncle seemed to loom over her. His calm expression, to her surprise, was replaced with a self satisfied one rather than one of shock at the outburst. She met his eyes defiantly, but each sentence was a nail in the neat little box she had become entrapped in.

As her flames of anger died, a sickening vacuum of despair pulled at her heart. With the motivation of not wanting her uncle to get the satisfaction of seeing her defeated, she was able to maintain a thin veneer of defiance. Her hands now clenched white on her skirts to stop them from trembling. If she gave into the grief that tightened her throat now, she didn't think she would ever escape it. She had to hold on. Had to find a way to thwart this vile man. Then she would have time to cry.

Through gritted teeth she did her best to keep her voice steady. "I need some time to think on your most gracious offer dear uncle." She paused a moment, but continued before Wendell could reply. "Perhaps we can speak more of it tomorrow evening, over supper. Good day uncle." She said in the most respectfully dismissive tone she could muster.

[DuchessLivilla]

Wendell smiled, drained his glass and set it on the table. "I knew you would come around and see it my way, my dear. It really is your only choice, and Henry shall make you a fine husband."

For all she had spoken of 'thinking', it was clear, as far as he was concerned, the decision was made. He cracked his knuckles and grinned, looking very smug. "Henry and I shall come and visit you...perhaps tomorrow, so you can talk." He patted her shoulder, ignoring or maybe not even noticing, the way she cringed at his very touch.

"I shall see myself out, my dear niece. Chin up, all shall be well! This is the right choice for you. You have little other!" He chuckled. "This world is cruel to women alone."

Wendell strode out, his shoes clicking on the marble floor of the entry way. All was going according to plan. He climbed into his carriage and set off for home, already planning the announcement and events. Soon...soon, he would have all he had ever wished for. Once Henry had married the simpering fool of a girl, and got her with child, all would settle down. And if said child was a boy, well, the mother was no longer needed. If she became an issue, she could be dealt with then.

He smirked and looked out at the passing streets. Finally. He would get what he deserved.

[Kach]

Priscilla's jaw clenched, caging her words before they could escape. She felt as if any moment the sky would begin to call around her.
Auguring, her gaze was locked into his, the certainty in his voice sickened her. She didn't volunteer a reply. She didn't think she had one that would not leave her sprawled on the floor with an angry red palm on her cheek.

Priscilla watched him go.
Little other choice? A cruel world!? Her despair exploded back into torrents of flame. She would see the vile man hung up from his toes in the square if she had her way! She growled through her teeth and began pacing the length of the drawing room. She would die before she bent to his will, if for no other reason, than to infuriate him.

How could she get out of this trap?
She couldn't go to the authorities, despite Wendell revealing his despicable nature, she had no proof of any wrongdoing, and her word would carry little weight against his own. If she fled to a family friend or relative, it would only buy her a short time; hours, maybe days? No, she had to leave the city, likely the coast.

A frown creased her natural lips, she hadn't put on lip color today; she seldom did, it got everywhere.
It had to be West. A new arrival would be unlikely to be remarked. She had heard rumours of single woman travelling west, and even taking their own homesteads. The railroad would offer a quick way to put distance between her and Boston. She would need money for a ticket and expenses, and whatever she could carry; not too much though. Best any persons who might be watching not think she was going anywhere.

An adventure, some called heading out west into the untamed lands. It was not a romantic notion for her. The rough men, dust and filth, hard labour and purported lawlessness painted her an uncomfortable picture. It would not be forever though; just until she was of age and could return to take her father's place as head of the family.

A wave of heartache tightened her chest as thoughts of her father drifted into her head. Had he known his brother was such a treacherous man? Had her father been trying to shield her from him; or had he been scheming even before her father had died?
The realisation sucker punched her and she brought her hands to her stomach as she felt it tighten. Had her uncle somehow been involved in her parents' deaths? The redoubled urgency of her flight caused her heart to flutter.

She took a few unsteady steps toward the door of the drawing room that smoothed as her resolve solidified. She had to escape Wendell Gardner.

---

She felt like a thief as she left the Pawn Shop with the proceeds needed for her escape carefully tucked away. She had sold nearly all of her mother’s jewellery, her silver flute, and any finery she could find of her father’s that was small enough to be sneaked out without notice.
The whole transaction had been miserable. The Pawner had thought she was much more ignorant of what things cost than she was. She had nearly bitten off her tongue to keep from berating the man. She didn’t want him to begin asking questions and he wasn’t inclined to if he would make off like a bandit. Relegated to small cooing noises, and eye batting, she was able to raise his offer, but she was still insulted. Had it not been a matter of life and death, she would have accused the man of gouging and been on her way to find another; but there was no time, and it would have to do.

It was a cool spring day and the afternoon shadows held a chill as she made her way back to the Manor that had been her lifelong home. She had donned extra stocking, shift, petticoat, and blouse before she left, but not because of the cool temperature.
She felt a bit warm at the exertion by the time she reached the quiet manor. Priscilla had instructed the servants to take the day off and then begin preparing for her uncle’s visit first thing in the morning. It had taken some convincing, but they seemed to have obeyed.
Heading up to her room, she grabbed the small, carefully hidden suitcase from under her bed. It had already been painstakingly packed, but she glanced around her room at all she was leaving behind and took a breath. One day she would return.

---

The train station was a buzz of activity, the smell of machinery and people moving was heavy in the air. People didn’t seem to pay much mind to where they were going as she made her way toward the train platform.

She had purchased a newspaper on the walk and scoured it for clues. Where would she go?
The advertisement had jumped out at her.
Single educated women needed for school teachers in western communities. Placement and housing provided. Please mail application today!
Without the time to waste, she had sent a telegraph ahead to Springfield informing them of her intention to apply, in person.

“It’s too late to turn back now.” She thought as she climbed up onto the train and set to finding her seat. It would be a long few days to Springfield, but hopefully they would be ready for her.

---

“I appreciate your enthusiasm.” Mrs Wolden said, eyeing the young woman, nearly a girl, who had introduced herself as Anna. A pleasant looking girl, if not beautiful she had been in unseemly haste to continue west the two days since her arrival in Springfield. The whole situation was highly unusual, but she wasn’t about to turn down a qualified applicant. Likely another girl who had shamed herself in her hometown, or was fleeing an arranged marriage.
“But it will be a few days until we are able to send you on to your destination. I was only able to send word yesterday, and they will likely be receiving my letter today. They will need a few days to prepare for your arrival. Enjoy the city, we have excellent hotels here and likely the last hot baths you may see for a while.”
The girl across from her frowned slightly, city woman always did when she brought that up.
“Remember to only bring what you can carry.” She smiled warmly. The reminder didn’t hurt. She had seen too many struggling to drag trunks, of all things, loaded with their belongings.

“Thank you Mrs Wolden, I will do my best to be patient. I am just excited to get to work.” Anna replied respectfully in an educated tongue that made her grin. She was sure the girl would be a fine teacher for the small mining town of Silver Creek.

[DuchessLivilla]

Silver Creek - Main Street

Arthur leant against Mr Lennox's wagon, enjoying a brief and deeply desired smoke while his boss was conducting his business in the small yet always busy post-house. It may have been shocking, if not scandalous in the big city, as all such places like distant Boston or New York were called, that a ranch owner, a man of money and power -in a small place as this anyway- would share a wagon, the same seat in fact, with his hand...but here no one so much as batted an eye.

It was common here. Mr Lennox, a bluff, cheerful man of high spirits who enjoyed life to the full, was in complete command of his ranch and often accompanied his men, normally Arthur, or his foreman, to town in the wagon for supplies. Or else he would ride over alone, taking the reigns himself.

"Mornin', Arthur," a voice called out from the stoop of the general store. A man was rocking back and forth in an old chair, that looked like it had seen action in at least three wars and was now held together by sheer will. The man himself looked rather similar to the chair in fact!

The man himself looked up from under his hat and drew his cigarette from his lips. "Mornin' Clyde. Fine day, isn't it?"

"It is that," he agreed, nodded.

"You gon' be doing any work today?" Arthur asked, a smirk on his lips as he took in Clyde's sedate posture.

"Work?" Clyde laughed and slapped his knee, raising a puff of dust from his pants. "You know I can't do that, Arthur! I gots to keep an eye on all you young'uns! See you do as you is meant to."

"Young'uns?" Arthur chuckled. "Now Clyde, you know I've not been a young'un for a decade and a half, I reckon, by now. I'm to be thirty this next year...And I feel it," he sighed and cracked his neck.

Clyde grinned. "Ah, still a whelp! And you always will be, Arthur. I'm twice your age."

"And as bone idle as they come, Clyde! Have you ever done a days work?" Arthur retorted, with humour.

The older made a show of considering then chuckled and slapped his knee again. "No, I don't reckon so...Horrible thing work...I try to avoid it at all costs!"

"Hence why your twice my age and as healthy as a horse?"

"That's right!"

Arthur shook his head fondly and leant back against the rough wood of the wagon. The sun was rising ever high and the heat with it. Hardly a gust of wind to lessen the blow. He glanced sideways at the horses and smiled. He had always had a way with them, even as a child. He pushed off the wagon and strode forward, his well-worn yet cared for boots, raising puffs of dust and sand from the parched earth. "Easy boy," he said softly, patting the horse's neck. "Hot, ain't it? Don't you worry...You'll be home soon...He can't be much longer," Arthur added, conspiratorially with a chuckle.

As it happened, at that moment the door to the post-house opened and Mr Lennox strode out, putting his hat back on as he did so. He came down the stairs and tossed a sack into the back of the wagon while thumbing through a stack of letters and telegrams.

"Ah, Arthur, have we all we need?"

"Yes, sir," came the reply.

"Good...good," Lennox nodded, reading as he did so. "Ah. Good," he tapped the paper he held. "We are to have, it is hoped, a new school-marm. Mrs Wolden, that canny old boot she is, sends word she has a possible candidate in mind. A Miss Anna Belle...It seems she possesses all we might hope for in such a person. I shall talk it over with my wife and see what she thinks."

As owner of the ranch and the most powerful and wealthy man in the town, it was Lennox who held the sway over such matters. Then again...it was Mrs Lennox who had the final say. As everyone knew...Mr Lennox ruled the town, and Mrs Lennox ruled him.

"Oh, I'm sure, Sir," Arthur replied, taking little notice; having no children, he had no interest or stake in the naming of the new school-marm. He had been fond of the old one, for sure, but fond as one is fond of one's neighbours, that was all. "Are we for home?"

"Yes, yes," Lennox nodded, pocketing his letters.

The two men climbed up onto the wagon and Arthur took the reigns.

As they journeyed back at a leisurely pace, Mr Lennox spoke -mainly to himself as Arthur's input was not needed- and mulled over various matters on the ranch. Matters he would, no doubt, have sorted out when his beloved wife heard of them. "I think," he said, nodding to himself, as was his want, "This Miss Belle shall do fine...She has an education, which is rare enough! The fact she can read and write is enough to set her apart from most others I've been told of! And she is young, so shall, God willing, last us a time before she weds and finds herself over-burdened with the running of a home and her own children."

"Yes, Sir," Arthur replied, paying little mind to his Master's words. He had learned, early on, in his employment, that Mr Lennox liked to talk at someone to help him make up his own mind. You did not need to reply much beyond 'yes sir' or 'no sir'.

"And with a name like Miss Belle..." he chuckled. "I am sure she shall be quite the addition to our fair town!"

"Oh, I'm sure," Arthur added, clicking his tongue to the horse. "Sounds like a name from the stage," he said, then coughed, not realising he had spoken out loud. "Not that I've..."

His Master laughed. "Indeed! Perhaps her mother was a fanciful woman with a love of the stage. Miss Anna Belle...I can see it upon a board at the theatre."

Arthur nodded along. Rather he was thinking that the name 'Miss Anna Belle' suggested a fake one. He smirked. "From a woman who's never had to think of one...Likely called Anabelle something, so decided to split it up and add another n for her alias. I wonder what she's running from?"

-

Naturally, Mrs Lennox was in agreement with her husband, after going over the letter and acclaiming that 'Miss Belle shall be most welcome to our town!' as if she was a Queen, welcoming a new ladies maid who had yet to prove her worth.

The next morning Arthur was sent into town, on horseback this time, to take a telegram to be dispatched. He did not, of course, know the substance of the missive, but could guess. He also knew too that he, as ever, would be sent with the wagon to fetch her from the station in the next town over and bring her to Silver Creek. He was always the one sent. Mr -and more importantly Mrs- Lennox felt he was the best choice for these missions; he was quiet, stoic and knew when to be silent, and he could be trusted with a young woman. Some of the others might not be such.

He glanced at the telegram as he handed it over. The envelope read 'Miss Anna Belle, co/ Mrs Wolden'. Arthur nodded to the teller and took departed, leaving the man to send it on.

It read as follows;

Dear Miss Belle,

I find your qualities most suitable to our needs, and as such am delighted to invite you, at your earliest convenience, to come to Silver Creek and take up the place as our school's mistress. As I write I have sent word that the attached cottage is to be cleaned and prepared for your arrival. It is one of the finest homes in the town, and I am sure you shall be most happy there.

The school is not over large and has but some fifteen or so pupils but we are a close knit community and I trust you shall find your feet here, and also, God Willing, happiness, for a great deal of time to come.

I imagine Mrs Wolden has informed you not to take much in the way of luggage, but do not be concerned, we may be small here but we have all that a young woman shall require.

I ask that you, or dear Mrs Wolden, send word as to what day and time you shall be travelling and I shall ensure my man, a Mr Arthur Ross, awaits you with our buggy at the station to bring you here to Silver Creek.

Your Humble Servant,

Mrs Catherine Lennox

[Kach]

"Dear Miss Belle,"

Priscilla started reading the creased letter she gingerly held again, despite the shaking of the train as it rattled westward. She tried to relax.

It had been a tense five days watching over her shoulder in Springfield while arrangements were made for her to travel. She had confined herself indoors, the less people that could recognize her, the less clues could be found to where she was going. So, she set to studying her syllabus when she wasn't eating, glancing out the window to the street below, or through a cracked door out to the hall.

One of the few times she had ventured into the city was to have her hair trimmed. The thought had been unappetizing. She had spent some time thinking about it, but decided the additional layer of security was worth it. Now sporting a pompadour style, raising her hair upwards in the central part, and leaving fallen curls at the sides, in a darker drown. She had to admit the shorter cut was lighter and more airy despite her initial reservations, and she had hardly recognized herself in the mirror afterwards.

Three more days of travel and sleeping on the train, and she had decided she did not mind train travel; and only regretted not thinking of finding a good book for the journey and not travelling first class. It rather reminded her of travelling on the water, the slight motion of the train and constant noise. She did not mind sailing.

Pricilla finished the letter once more. She wasn’t sure how many times she had read it. The talk of a cottage seemed quaint, however the mention of it being the best in the town, made her wonder if Mrs Catherine Lennox was prone to hyperbole.
Fifteen kids seemed like an exhilarating challenge that she was looking forward to. She had enjoyed tutoring the younger well-to-do kids who her parents had known the parents of in Boston. Never so many, but Mrs Wolden had assured the number did not matter as long as their teacher kept a firm but nurturing hand.

A shout came from the back of the car and she started, turning in her seat and peeking over it with a ducked head to see the commotion. Had she been discovered? A few moments observation revealed a cramped passenger had become upset with his travelling companion, and she relaxed once more. Glancing over at her seatmate, an elderly man with tufts of grey above his ears who she had only seen awake when they first boarded, she mused. His face and knobby hands were weathered, though even in sleep, he seemed grandfatherly. He must have worked out in the elements most of his life.
Priscilla had decided he was a fisherman heading inland to visit his children. His wife had passed away some time ago. He loved his family, but he couldn’t leave the sea behind, it kept calling him back to his small fishing boat he had known all his life.
She nodded with satisfaction and turned back to the letter she rested in her lap.
Now what did the mining town of Silver Creek look like?


The train shuttered as it began to slow, approaching the Goodwater station. A railroad town, like every other the train had passed through, there was little to remark about Goodwater save for that it was the closest to Silver Creek and thus, her stop.
Peering out the windows at the sparse landscape, she might have been disappointed if it weren’t for the anticipation of arriving at her final destination. Far from the metropolis of Boston, Goodwater seemed a sparse, spartan place with the only colours contrasting the shades of brown filling the landscape, the handful of signs denoting one shop or another. A handful of people gathered at the station platform, one of whom she assumed must be the Mr. Arthur she was to meet. None appeared to be from Boston way, something she checked at every stop, just in case.
As she began gathering her belongings, a warm, rough voice gave her pause, “Disembarking all ready?” The old man beside her peered up at her from bushy grey eyebrows with a toothless smile.
Priscilla smiled back, she hadn’t met her grandfather, but she liked to think this man might have reminded her of him. “Yes, thank you for your company. I hope you have a safe journey to wherever you are going.”
He nodded gratefully. “Thank you kindly little Muss. You mind your way, and keep a hat on your head. That sun out here will dry you up like a raisin like me if’n you don’t.”
He chuckled at his own joke and she thanked him for the advice before bidding him adieu.

The air was cool for mid afternoon under the clouded sky. Perhaps rain was coming, but it did not smell of it yet and the dusty ground held no moisture. Priscilla stepped onto the platform, moving to the side to let others pass as she peered into the handful of faces in the crowd. Her now short black hair was kept as well as she could given she had been train bound for the last few days. She had not bothered with makeup after the first day of travel, how it became mussed while she sat on a train was beyond her reasoning, and her complexion was quite fair. She wore a well cut, unadorned wide skirt in darker sky blue with a protruding bustle, a style falling out of popularity for flat bustles and tighter skirts in Boston. An intentional choice on her part to attempt to blend in with what had been common in Springfield. She had done her best not to dress like someone with money, but anyone with a fine eye for clothing would see a very high quality dress despite its lack of ornamentation. It was the best she could do until she could buy more clothing.

Setting her small suitcase and bag of teaching materials down on the platform, she smoothed her apron and skirts, electing to wait until some of the crowd cleared before searching for ‘Mr Arthur.’

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur had arrived early at the station -a habit of his for most things- and had passed the time while waiting smoking, and making polite -for the time and place anyway- conversation with the waiting travellers. Most of whom he knew by sight, and name, it was, after all, a small place and most folk went between Goodwater and Silver Creek at least once every few weeks for some reason or other.

He'd hitched the old horse, Dobbs, to the hitching post round the side with the wagon, to prevent it taking up too much room. The post-master would be in a fit if he arrived in his cart to see a wagon in his spot! Arthur too, like the lady he was to meet, didn't set off towards the crowded platform as the train pulled in...There would be no point, after all...He had no idea what the new school-marm looked like, though he assumed Mrs Lennox had told her what he looked like.

Or maybe he'd know her by sight. Some lost looking creature. "Miss Belle..." he chuckled and shook his head. Maybe she'd look like a show-girl! That'd go down well! Mrs Lennox was a stickler for such things...A show-girl would put the cat among the pigeons that was for sure. She had enough to say about the whorehouse! Though, ironically, the girls there were in church every Sunday, without fail, and even the preacher welcomed them.

Arthur cracked his neck and took off his hat before he strolled towards the thinning crowd of travellers. Rough, working man, or not, he had manners enough to always take off his hat when greeting a woman, even the lowest woman. Courtesy, ironically, had been a lesson he had been taught by-

No.

He hastily showed such thoughts from his mind. The past was dead. And he was determined it would stay dead.

As he waited by a rather stout woman with two large trunks and a cage with a parrot in it, he glanced down at himself and wondered if he should have changed his shirt. The boss hadn't said to...And Mrs Lennox hadn't been about when he left early that morning. What he had on was clean, for a working man's set of clothes; a blue, cotton shirt, open at the neck to let a little air get to his weather beaten skin, a pair of faded but perfectly serviceable dark, denim work pants, his prized quickdraw boots that had seen this life and his previous one -and showed it though they were still in fine nick- and his treasured black hat.

His tan jacket lay in the back of the wagon. It was too goddamn hot for it...lady or not, he was not about to roast for her prudent sensibilities if that was what she was like. You never knew with some women. She could walk to town if she didn't like him. And good luck to her.

Arthur saw Miss Belle before she saw him. He could have picked her out of the press of people within a second.

Money.

She had once had or still had...money. And old money too, not the new, flashy industry types who had come from nothing.

It was a thing one learned to notice quickly in his previous life. And he was an expert at it. He had no idea what it was...breeding, maybe, but the old money folk carried themselves in a strange way, from birth, or so it seemed to him, when he'd watched wealthy children. There was something about them. An air of untouchability.

"The plot thickens," he thought as he strolled forward to the rather lost looking woman.

"Ma'am?" He nodded warmly. "Would you be Miss Belle? The new school-marm? Arthur Ross, I'm to take you to town. Mrs Lennox sends her complements."

[Kach]

Ms Anne Belle studied the platform as the crowd dispersed around her. A strange collection of people. A handful of business men in well kempt suits, mixed with dusty cattle handlers, women in a variety of dresses in a range of styles and one even had a colorful caged bird in among her two large trunks. She seemed to be staring daggers at a pair of rough looking mustached men as they ambled toward her at their own pace. She seemed well to do, possibly a successful shop keep's wife, or maybe a railroad man. It felt odd to blend into a crowd. In Boston there had always been people to watch and appearances to keep, but here she almost felt invisible.

She noticed a weathered looking man walking toward her. Her warm brown eyes studied the man as he approached. Undoubtedly a local judging by his well worn boots and lightly dusted clothes. The first word that popped into her head was "Ragamuffin". The top two buttons of his shirt were undone revealing the sharp ruddy tanned lines of his collarbones in an unseemly fashion. His hair needed a good combing and a trim, and a shave wouldn't have hurt his sun reddened face.
She wondered if this what passed for 'presentable' around these parts. At least he had the decency to take off the hat he held casually in his hands as he offered what she figured was his attempt at a curtesy. She was no longer in the upper crust of Boston it seemed, and a certain amount of "slumming it" would be required. His smile seemed genuine, but his face had a familiar quality to it that tugged at something in the back of her mind. Maybe something about is eyes...

Offering what she would have called a 'casual' curtsey, normally only used among the well acquainted socialites in Boston, she accepted his greeting offering her hand more out of habit than intention.
"Miss Anna Belle, a pleasure to meet you Mister Ross. I appreciate you coming all this way to meet me out here."
She said formally, her tone carefully measured to be just warm enough to not seem cold or disappointed, but not warm enough to start putting ideas in the hired man's head.
"I do look forward to giving my regards to Mrs Lennox personally."

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur blinked. She might have changed her name, if his suspicions were true, but that voice...She was quality, to the bone, and as soon as she opened her mouth folk would know something was up. He wondered whether he should tell her. Likely as not, she'd not appreciate it, but he reckoned he should try.

Later, anyway, on the ride home. Not here. Folk might overhear.

He nodded, brushing his hair back and re-settling his hat back on his head to shade him from the heat. "No trouble ma'am. I had a few errands to run as well. D'you have bags with you? Best we get you out of this sun, ain't kind to a Lady's looks."

That was all he said. One line, throwaway really, but if she caught it, she might twig he knew she was not some woman from town but a 'lady' in the full sense of the word, and change, if she could, her ways. Folk coming to hide out in Silver Creek wasn't new, hell, wasn't he doing the same? But effort had to be made!

He gestured back past the small station building -it would be called a shed in Boston!- to the shade where the wagon and Dobbs waited.

[Kach]

Anna noticed Mr Ross seemed a bit unsettled by the introduction, almost as if he recognized her as he brushed his hand through his hair. But that was impossible, she must be seeing things.

His drawl was informal and the words seemed rustic like the small town, almost as if they skewed slightly, leaning on each other. He definitely seemed a local of these parts. They were fascinating sounds unfamiliar to her ears.

Anna answered with a nod, satisfied that she had made the impression she was expecting on the man.
He gestured past the railway siding to a wagon part way down the street. He could have parked it closer...
As she strode past him leaving her two small suitcases for Mr Arthur to carry, one containing all of her possessions she fled Boston with, the other her schooling books. Her skirts swished delicately.

She felt a lump hit her gut when the realization hit her as she moved down the street toward the wagon. How many "ladies" left the city to work in the country? None; unless they had shamed themselves out of staying. She was already beginning to stand out like a sore thumb. Even a hired man from the sticks saw it in her at their first meeting. She would have to think on an explanation if anyone questioned her about it. It would take some time to adjust her bearing to something close to these country folk; if she could at all.

A frown creased Anna's lips. It was a weathered open top wagon. She had been expecting a coach. The coming ride in the wind and dust of the road did little help her spirits. Hopefully their destination was not far. It was quite high compared to the carriages and buggies she was accustom too. She turned, expecting Mr Arthur to be on her heels with her luggage to fetch a stool for her to embark.

[DuchessLivilla]

As soon as she had walked passed him -her gait and walk themselves giving away more than she likely knew- Arthur rolled his eyes and picked up her bags, the weight of the book one being nothing to him. He followed along behind, trying not to smirk and smile. He couldn't say why, exactly, but for some reason he found this whole thing rather amusing all of a sudden.

A genuine, full-bred Lady, coming here with a changed name and hoping that would be enough...as if everyone out West was a simpleton who'd not notice something was up.

Hell, they had their share of simpletons! He couldn't deny that, and maybe she'd go unnoticed for a few...but Mrs Lennox would smell a rat, that was for sure. "She best have a damn good story as to why she's here, and why she sounds like that. And walks like that. And looks at everyone as if we're barely worth her notice..." He thought.

Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked around the wagon to place her bags in the back by his jacket. He climbed up onto the seat and sat down, only then -he had been so lost in thought to notice- seeing that Miss Belle was standing beside said wagon, looking more lost than ever and...if he was any judge, rather annoyed.

Hell.

What did she expect? A carriage? A fine coach, with velvet seats? Maybe a footman to help her in and out and offer her sweet-tea?

That made him chuckle again.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he drawled, leaning over to offer a hand for her to climb up onto the seat via the rung of the wheel. "Ain't a grand coach, but it gets us around. Sides, y'all don't want to be seen in a carriage round out West...Not if you want to get to where you was headed. Outlaws see a coach and know there's something worth stealing."

He noticed she looked rather appalled at the idea...maybe of outlaws, maybe of having to a. hold his hand to get in, and b. having to climb in herself.

"If y'all just step on the wheel and climb up, ain't nothing to it, ma'am. Best get used to it. Wagons and horses only way, aside from yer own two feet, to get about in these parts. I won't drop you, I swear it."

[Kach]

Anna heard her bags thud into the back of the wagon and winced slightly. The man was hardly a pedigreed carriage driver in Boston with his lack of regard for her personnel affects, but what could she expect at the edge of civilization? Luckily she had packed everything well.

Her face tightened when she noticed Mr. Ross hefting himself to the seat of the wagon grinning like a fool. Was she going to have to climb up herself? Surely not, the seat was above her head! Then he noticed her standing beside the wagon, and he chuckled! What did he find so amusing?! She felt her face heat as her anger bubbled, and took a breath to calm herself. Putting herself at odds with the first person she met in what would be her new home for the foreseeable future was not a good start.

He leaned over and offered her a hand up to the wagon's seat. What an unladylike proposition. Climbing up the side of a dusty wagon like some ape in the jungle. He was grateful for her gloves, and begrudgingly, that Mr Ross offered to pull her up; but she had no idea where to begin, and she was wearing a skirt! Glancing around hoping no one was watching, she hiked up her skirts to her knees and took Arthur's hand stepping onto the wheel spoke.

It was an awkward display with Anna more or less being dragged into the seat as she scrambled to find purchase on the side of the wagon with one hand holding her skirts. Finally finding herself seated, she smoothed her skirts, looking forward to avoid Mr Ross's eyes. Very unladylike indeed.

"Thank you." She said softly, not turning to face them man, eager to be past the embarrassing display. "Shall we be off then?"
She wasn't sure that getting down from the wagon would be easier. Hopefully it would not be a long ride.

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur chuckled again and clicked his tongue, flicking the reigns as he did. Old Dobbs set off at a leisurely pace; which kept the dust to a minimum and avoided showering them in the same.

For a time, he was silent, running things over in his mind as Dobbs clopped along. A few horses passed them, the riders calling out greetings to Arthur and tipping their hats to Miss Belle.

He was a stoic man, at the best of times, and normally he would have been happy enough to sit in silence as they travelled along...But he couldn't. The woman next to him was going into a place where she needed to blend in, or at least fit in enough to be thought delightfully eccentric rather than, as Mrs Lennox would think it, 'uppity'.

He coughed and searched his mind how to address this in a way that she'd take well. He came up a blank on that.

"Ah, Miss Belle?" Arthur started, scratching his neck as he did to play off his nerves.

"Nerves at my damn age? Hells teeth.

"Miss Belle," he started again, "I ain't gon' pry, ain't my place, and I reckon it'd do no good anyway but...well, I ain't blind. And the folks in town ain't blind either, well, most ain't. Mrs Lennox, she isn't, that's for sure. Reckon she is the closest thing to society we have in this here backwater. Now, I reckon you, and you don't have to say yes or no, but I know you are a Lady...And I don't mean a lady like those back at the station...I mean a Lady with a capital L and mansion, type of Lady."

He held up his hand, "Now don't be getting scared. I mean nothing by it and I don't mean no harm. Take this as friendly advice, which is what it is...Folks in town will ask questions, and look and gossip. Ain't much happens here. You are gon' be the most exciting thing to arrive since the last bout of the TB. I reckon...And y'all can ignore me all you like. But I reckon your best bet is to say you was a nanny or such to ladies children...And must've picked up some the lingo and walk, and manners."

Arthur rubbed his chin. "Mrs Lennox, she might be more tricky, but you flatter her and that will be enough. And," he looked at her for the first time since he started talking, "Don't be looking down on folks. They may not be 'society' folks you is used to, but they're good folks, hard working and decent, if a little rough about the edges. And you'll be teaching their young ins', so just you remember that."

[Kach]

Mercifully he let it pass without further comment, though his chuckle galled her so that she nearly considered smacking him with her glove. Arthur seemed competent enough at the reins and she gave a small nod of approval. Her driver in Boston had been one, Mr Chesapeake. An excellent driver by her reckoning, he always drove them quickly and smoothly, and never missed a curtesy. Anna didn't know if he was still alive. Her uncle hadn't mentioned it that dreadful morning. In hindsight, she regretted not asking after him.

The call of greetings from passing wagons snapped her out of her thoughts and she nodded her head to each in acknowledgement formally more out of reflex than effort. It was comforting to know some decorum existed even out here.
What was she going to do about Arthur Ross? She had, seemingly, found her out right away at first meeting. She began to wonder for the first time if this had all been a mistake. Would her uncle be here to bundle here away in a week when word got back to him?


Anna flinched at her driver's gruff voice, but played it off smoothing her skirts inclining her head towards him. She kept her eyes on her hands as they smoothed the fine cotton that had taken some rumples in the journey.


Her heart was pounding in her chest. Why was he telling her this, some sort of blackmail perhaps? Of course she was a lady, was it really going to be so much of a problem? Anna had begun to regret her first impression. She did her best to keep a serene face as she brought up her now cool eyes to meet his.


Scared!? She wasn't some girl run away from her family. He had said himself; she was a Lady! She was hardly frightened of Mr Arthur Ross. Faint traces of a scowl began to show on her face as she felt the heat rise in her belly. Then she heard her mother's voice in her head, a velvet covered iron bar.
"Priscilla Annabelle Gardner, a Lady minds her temper. Yelling at men makes them think your hysterical, excitable, short witted, and they become as stubborn as a ox. They can be induced to more favorable action with calm, leading words, that let them come to your conclusion themselves.

Anna tamped down her embers of anger and took a breath, thinking on his words, the serenity returning to her face. It seemed like sound advice.
"I appreciate your concern Mr Ross." Came out a bit more coolly than she would have liked, it sounded like she had cut off before the 'but' she wanted to add. "Are there any others I should especially concern myself with?"

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur chuckled softly, watching, with mild amusement as a range of emotions flickered across her face before she finally settled on, perhaps typically, politeness.

"Funny lot...the quality," he thought. "Never show their emotions...it's all wrapped up tight! Can't be healthy."

Folk in town held nothing back! There was hardly an evening that passed without a brawl in the saloon or a screaming match in the brothel between two girls! Or else a woman would be throwing her husband out over, most likely, said two girls at said brothel!

He chuckled again, and realised he had been doing that often since he had met her. It had been a while since he had found something amusing.

"No, you don't, Miss Belle," he quipped. "You reckon I should mind my tongue and just drive, like a good servant. Well, I ain't one, and never have been. Folk round these parts say what is on their minds. Life's too short out this way to hold back. Ya'll should try it. As for concerning," he scratched his chin, "the reverend, I guess. If you have faith...even if you don't, you should make a show of going to church. I don't bother. I don't need folk to not talk of me...You do."

He went quiet a time, thinking of the past. A wistful, almost mournful look flashed over his face before he coughed and shifted in his seat. "And you'd do well not to annoy Mrs Wells. She runs the..." Arthur coloured, and cursed himself. It was not the topic, but who he was speaking of.

Likely she didn't even know what such a place was!

"The...local...house of," he chuckled, to cover his embarrassment, "Leisure, I suppose! She's a good woman, but with a sharp tongue, and a rumour will get from her, to her girls, to the rest of the damn county before I could spit! Some of the youngin's you'll be teaching, their mama's work there, so just be careful what you say...Youngin's repeat everything."

He glanced at her, wishing to see how she took that news. He wondered how she felt about whores and such...And teaching a whore's bastard? Well. That was sure to be like biting a lemon for her.

[Kach]

Mr Ross was proving to be quite infuriating, he liked to presume far too much about her, and what did he find so funny!? Honestly she didn't mind the topic of discussion, though Anna did find his manner extremely... Crass.
"Very well Mr. Ross, if you are going to insist on being an uncouth, cloddish, and shabby driver, that is your business. However if you intend to assert any more presumptions about me, I won't hesitate to box your ears for the offense." Her voice was cool and matter-of-fact leaving little question of her tolerance for such things.

Make a show of going to worship? What was he on about? What kind of man had they sent to fetch her? Hopefully he was close to the worst the town of Silver creek had to offer, or else Anna was beginning to think she would be in over her head.

The news of a Madame was unsurprising to Anna, though she had never had any experience with their like, her mother had told some stories of the enterprising and hardy women in that line of work. The man had seemed embarrassed bringing it up; there was small pleasure in that.

"Well at least there are a few people of substance to meet in Silvercreek." She replied pointedly, her brown eyes heated before turning back to look forward down the road.
"I don't have anything to prove to you Mr Ross, I have handled children in the past. I don't think I would have anything to gain from your undoubtedly large wealth of knowledge on the subject. However perhaps if the children are in need of their spirts being lifted, you could stop by and tell them the jokes you have been chuckling at?"
Anna's tone carried a bit more edge than she would normally have allowed, however Mr Ross had done quite a good job of being a bee in her bonnet, and if the man wanted her to be more open with her displeasure she would gladly oblige.

[DuchessLivilla]

At her talk of boxing his ears, and what came after, Arthur laughed properly -for the first time in many years it felt like- and shook his head, a fond smile curling on his lips. He couldn't say why but he rather liked this prickly woman; she had, thank God, some character to her! She'd need it, that was for damn sure.

He inclined his head and tipped his hat to her, still smiling, "You're alright, ma'am," it sounded like, and was meant as such, as a compliment. "Got some fire in you, reckon the local lads shall be on their toes with you about. They won't know what has hit them. Promise me to save boxing their ears till I'm in town...Ain't much entertainment about and a Lady doing such, I would pay to see."

As the plodded along, a horse drew level with them and a native-looking man, but with darker skin that suggested he might be half-black too, with long hair, tied back in a plait, and sporting a blue shirt and brown breeches, called out, "Arthur, I thought it was you." He looked past him and nodded to his companion, "Ma'am." On the back of his horse was a dead deer, head jolting with each movement below it.

"Charles," Arthur drawled, nodding back, "Fine day. Damn hot though, I reckon. You had some luck on the hunt then, I see?"

The man, Charles, nodded, "Yes. Took a while though. The animals are spooked...by something, not sure what. Past the creek and up by the woods. There's signs of folk where they normally ain't..."

Arthur frowned. He knew where Charles always hunted, and the place was deserted...always had been, 'cept for said animals, and one or two of the other natives folks, who never left much sign of them having been there in the first place. "What kindof signs?" He asked, all his attention focussed on the man.

"Couple of firesites, spread out a few miles apart, but I tracked them...they go in a circle. All were empty though. One was newer, cold but only by a few days, going on the look of it. Whoever they are, they are about still, or have only just left. There be any talk in town of strangers?"

"Not that I've heard. Miss Belle be the only new arrival," he glanced at her then back to Charles, "I'll keep an eye out at the ranch, and see if Mrs Wells known anything. She's always first to know."

Charles nodded, "Thank you, Arthur. I best be getting on, for the meat spoils. Take care," he smiled then nodded once more to Annabelle. "Ma'am, welcome to you." Before he road off up the road.

Arthur was silent a time after he had gone, his face all serious now and pensive with it.

Strangers.

Here.

Ones that were hiding out in the woods, at that. Such folks were rarely up to nothing. He should know. He felt his fingers itch at his side and for a moment he wished they were around his prized pistol or better yet, his Springfield rifle. He flicked the reigns to spur the old horse on a bit, wishing to be in town sooner rather than later now. He had better tell the sheriff.

He had almost forgotten Miss Belle beside him until she spoke.

[Kach]

Anna continued looking ahead, appearing to watch the horse plodding down the dusty road. She didn't need his approval, but it contented her to have it; and that soured her mood all the more.

She hadn't noticed the outrider approach until the man and Arthur began exchanging words. She was pleasantly surprised at the man's courtesy, though he should have waited for Arthur to acknowledge him before speaking, especially in such a casual tone. It would not have been polite to point out the man's deficiencies with no aquintance so she held her tongue and listened, observing the man and attempting to blend in. She wondered who the man might be in the employ of.

Anna kept her polite smile though Arthur didn't bother making introductions. It grated on her. Her students back in Boston knew more about manors than this... Cowboy.

When they started talking about strangers she noticed Arthur tense. The man really was an open book. He didn't seem worried, but maybe suspicious.

When he finally mentioned her, in what would pass for an introduction, she nodded and offered a formal smile.
The block-headed man hardly thought her worth mentioning except for a passing mention. She would have to offer civility classes at the school if this was how everyone behaved.

Again she was surprised by Charles' manors, he had apparently been at least somewhat educated. She figured he would have to be in the employ of someone well-to-do. She nodded, her smiled warming slightly, and offered her thanks and bid of safe travels.

They went back to riding in silence and Anna turned to watch Arthur. He seemed to be lost in thought, a slight grimace on his face as if he was considering the strangers as a danger.

"You think these strangers are really that dangerous?" She asked genuinely unsure of the hazard. She ensured her voice didn't have any unease it. She didn't want him getting the thought in his head that she needed protection. It seemed a trifle, and why would anyone bother with Silvercreek? "Does Silvercreek really have that few visitors?"

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur blinked and came back to reality. He looked at her, "Ain't nothing for you to worry about, Miss Belle, I'm sure...But no, we don't get many newcomers. Train don't come by, and the post only rarely brings new folks or old folks coming back home. New folks come to town...They don't hide out in the woods, nor do they circle about in said woods."

He rubbed his chin, clearly on edge. "Charles, being a native, or half anyway, by birth, he knows them wood like his own hand and if he's uneasy, I do well to be uneasy too. I'll see you to your new home and into Mrs Lennox's tender care, then I'll go and see the Sheriff..."

Arthur drew out a pocket-watch and checked it, "Hopefully," he added, "He'll still be sober enough to listen." He put the watch away and gestured to the vague smear on the horizon that was slowly forming up in the heat haze. "That's Silvercreek there. Be there within half-an hour I reckon. Old Dobbs ain't built for speed, not anymore anyway."

He smiled fondly and called out, "Ain't that right, old boy? You've done your time and have every right to enjoy a slower life now..."

[Kach]

Anna frowned disapprovingly, men-folk always thought they could protect anything, regardless of whether it wanted their protection or not. She would decide if it was something for her to worry herself about. It couldn't be men hired by her uncle searching for her already, could it? Certainly not. A coincidence, though an unsettling one. She would have to make a concerted effort to blend in with the locals, she only hoped that would not be too difficult.

Anna peered at the discolored smudge in the distance. She couldn't recall meeting a half breed before. The man, Charles, seemed normal enough. Hardly a savage at all. He almost seemed normal. Mercy, she was beginning to loose her wits barely a fortnight out of Boston.

"I beg your pardon Mr Ross." Anna said, eyes wide and brow tight. "Do you mean to say Silvercreek's Law Man is a drunkard?!" It was barely mid day. Surely Mr Arthur was exaggerating the situation. "Surely you can't be serious." What had she gotten herself into? A drunk law man, and mysterious strangers had to be better than being in her uncles clutches... "A law man is supposed to be an exemplar of civility and an arbiter or justice, not a common drunk." Anna began to wonder what everyone else in Silvercreek might be like.

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur laughed at that, though without malice. "The sheriff likes a drink, and he is perfectly civil, most of the time. He's got his reasons, like the rest of us. Don't worry yourself about him, Miss. He can still hang an outlaw or break up a brawl."

"Just about..." He thought ruefully. The sheriff was, in his view, due for retirement. His deputy was too young though and rather untried. Sure, he thought he knew it all, like all boys of his age, but the lad could hardly shoot straight!

He smiled to himself, thoughts of himself at that age, well younger actually, learning to shoot. Being awful at it, then getting the trick...

"They were fine times, that's for sure..."

He said nothing else as the clopped along, getting nearer and nearer the little town until the wooden -and a few stone- buildings could be made out. Silvercreek was a typical town for out west, the main street dusty -and muddy in the rain- flanked on each side by mainly wooden buildings with slouching stoops. There was the saloon -of course- halfway down, opposite the general store, a bank, which was required for the ranch, a doctor's office, and a smattering of other shops, most with the owners living above them.

At the top of the town was a small church, made of red-brick with the churchyard behind it and at the opposite end was the stables and blacksmith. Dotted around the main body of the town were small, rather squat wooden cottages, some larger, some smaller, but most.

Arthur steered Dobbs towards the main street, nodding at a few folks as they called out. "There's the inn here," he gestured, to the building at the end, across from the stables at an angle. "If you wants a hot bath and don't want to boil the water yourself. School house is behind the church, and your cottage is next door. I reckon," he looked about, "Mrs Lennox will meet us there. Ah," he spotted, up the top of the main street, the Lennox's carriage.

"There. She's here," he chuckled and glanced sideways at Miss Belle. "I reckon it's not as grand as you've been used to, but here, that's a fine carriage. Mention it to her, if you want to get on her good side."

[Kach]

Arthur's assurances did little to convince her of the Sheriff's capability. Perhaps she had gotten herself a bit too far in? She would have a hard time getting back to the train station without help if it came to that. Not that she had anywhere to go if she did.

As they got close to the town Anna scrutinized it. Silvercreek was certainly quaint... It seemed like as good of place as any to hide for a time. Certainly not somewhere she would want to stay forever.

Smoothing her skirts, she prepared for first impressions. They were of paramount importance, but it occurred to her, she did not know how, rural folk made introductions, and her escort hadn't proved entirely reliable in that regard.

The Inn was a humble structure of two floors but apparently well cared for. It's wooden exterior was white washed, and the windows were cleaned with the shutters in good repair.
A nice hot bath to soak in would be lovely.

Doing her best to take in the village without gawking, she regarded the carriage. It had been well built and taken care of, though it was rather plain and had definitely seen some use. True, not as ornate as she had seen, but perfectly serviceable compared to the uncovered wagon she currently rode. It was dusty.

She didn't meet Arthur's eyes as she peered up the road trying to catch sight of the school and her new home, though she did offer a nod in acknowledgement.
She waited until the wagon came to a stop, and Arthur dismounted. Hoping the man would be wise enough to lend a hand getting off the contraption to save her the awkward, clumsy, climb down.

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur hopped down with ease, his boots raising little clouds of dust. He stretched, ran a hand through his sandy hair and replaced his hat before, glancing at Miss Belle, coming around and holding out a hand for her to step down. He reckoned, correctly, she didn't want to fall on her face in front of his new neighbours. As amusing as that might be to everyone, bar Mrs Lennox.

"You're a'right, Miss, just step down. I'll catch yeh, I promise," he smiled, kindly enough really. And there was certainly strength in his hand. Seeing her hesitation, perhaps a little fear at the drop, he met her eyes and said, this time seriously, "I promise, Miss. You won't fall, hang on," he waved a hand and walked to the sagging porch of the inn then came back with a sturdy box, that took a good foot off the drop for her. He set it down then held his hand out again. "Much larger space to step on, right? You'll be fine. In a few days, you'll be up and down these steps like a natural," he smiled kindly once more.

[Kach]

Anna relaxed when she saw Arthur head around the wagon to help her down. She didn't think she would have forgiven the man if he left her struggling up in the seat. She carefully turned on the seat, shifting her skirts so as not to get wrapped up in them and hesitant to reach out for Arthur's hands. The fool man was grinning at her again, like a cook that had just watched a plump goose wander into his kitchen. Anna didn't frown, though she didn't smile either.

She watched him go and fetch a box to use as a step, finally the man was using some sense! But did he have to patronize her so?
She took his hand and carefully stepped down onto the box, getting both feet planted before stepping to the ground and re-arranging her skirts once more.

The buildings were... humble.

A one room school house with a small... shack next to it. Wooden sided buildings with a couple small windows each and tar papered roofs.

[DuchessLivilla]

Arthur brushed dust from his coat and went to the back of the wagon to fetch her bags. "This way then, Miss," he said as he walked past her, up the slight incline to Mrs Lennox's carriage.

The rather portly, 'grand dame of Silvercreek' climbed out the carriage, beaming. She was dressed in, to Anna's trained eye, rather old-fashioned clothing, from at least two decades before, though the gown and bonnet were well-made and clearly expensive. They were also black, with much lace and ruffles. Mrs Lennox wore a mourning brooch at her throat, that contained a lock of pale hair.

"Ah! Miss Belle," she smiled and came forward, "I am so relieved to see you arrive here safely. I have always hated travel, most unlady like I always think but one must do it sometimes, mustn't one?" She patted Anna's hand. "Why aren't you young! But highly recommended," she smiled kindly. "You must be tired, Miss, I am sure. I've arranged for a room at the inn for you, their best, and you can rest and have a bath. Your cottage is nearly ready but I would much rather give it an extra day to let the fire heat the place before you move in. I can take you to see it though?" She beamed.

Mrs Lennox was evidently a talker, one who hardly took a breath it seemed. She took Anna's arm and set off towards the church to the squat, whitewashed stone cottage next to the wooden school building. "Mr Arthur?" Mrs Lennox glanced back, "You give those bags to my man, will you? And you had best come along, we might need you to check the fire."

Arthur did as he was bid then followed along, "'Course Ma'am," he nodded.

"Now, Miss Belle," Mrs Lennox was carrying on. "There's a small garden to the back of the cottage, that is a little overgrown but I am sure some of the hands from the ranch will be happy to lend you a hand. There's a small vegetable plot, as well as flowers too. The old school mistress had quite the green thumb, I hope you love it as much as she did. Now..." they reached the little cottage and Mrs Lennox opened the wooden door straight into a small, yet cozy -a fire was crackling happily in the harth- living room with a few rag rugs upon the floor and sparse but well cared for furniture.

It was, to most folk, very nice, but to Anna it was a world away from her home.

Mrs Lennox smiled. "Here we are. Cozy, isn't it? Through here," she pulled back a curtain, "Is your bedroom. I've had the mattress re-stuffed for you, and the linens washed and aired." She patted the patchwork quilt. The room contained, as well as the iron double bedstead, a trunk at the foot of it, and a large press for her clothes. The small windows, with pretty curtains, looked out onto the back garden.

"There's a tap out back, for water, Miss, and plenty of coal and wood in the shed too. If you need more, you just ask one of the hands, and they'll see to it."

Arthur, knowing his place, had stayed in the living room, and made himself busy by checking the fire and adding an extra log.

He was dying to see what Miss Belle would say...He could imagine her horror at this being her new home. She had no idea how lucky she was. Hell, half the town would kill for such a place!

[Kach]

Anna felt her dress was hopelessly rumpled from days of travel and the rough wagon side did not help, but she followed Arthur; equally dreading and eager to meet 'Mrs lennox' the woman behind the man who ran the town. She barely noticed Aurthur fetching her things; she had fallen back into the habit of expected him wait on her as she did her best to straighten up her appearance, and tucking in stray hairs.

The pleasently plump Mrs Lennox had a motherly quality to Anna, a face with smile lines and warm but sharp eyes. She felt the tension she had been carrying release as a smile came across her lips, though it was tempered at the sight of her mourning attire.

Who had passed and how long ago? Arthur had not mentioned it, and Mrs Lennox didn't seem distraught so she guessed some time had passed.

Anna offered a carefully calculated curtsey as Mrs Lennox walked up. Not to deep to seem overly formal, and not too shallow to give the impression she thought herself the woman's better.
"Thank you for coming to meet me personally Mrs Lennox. The journey was a long one, but I persevered despite the hardship."
She blushed lightly at the remark at her age, only visible because of the fairness of her skin, partly from embarrassment and partly from offense. Anna hadn't realized it until Mrs Lennox mentioned it, but she did feel terribly tired and filthy, coated with a layer of dust and sweat.

"You are a Saint Mrs Lennox," Anna replied gratefully. "Mr Ross told me you were the woman to know around these parts, and I see he was not mistaken. I would be honored for you to show me to my quarters."

At the first, Mrs Lennox seemed quite agreeable, if a bit talkative, and that suited Anna just fine. The more the woman talked, the less she had to.

She couldn't help but catch the woman's infectious smile as she took her arm. The building was humble, but it had to be better than living under the thumb of her uncle; right?

A garden, now that sounded lovely. She hadn't done any gardening, though she figured she was familiar enough with the theory. How hard could it be? Plant some seeds, a sprinkle of water, she wouldn't need the help of men... would she?

Anna's train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door revealing the interior of the building.
It was dreadful! Worse than her servant's quarters back in Boston! The size was fair, but the floor of rough wood was covered with ratty rugs that she worried were infested with fleas. The furniture looked like it was ready to be next into the fireplace. Her bed was separated from the rest of the room by a curtain! And that bed! It looked like a child had been sick from too many sweets on the blanket and it rolled like the sea in a storm. Those curtains would be the first thing to go!

Anna's smile had begun to wilt, though she caught herself and smoothed her features. She was well practiced at seeming interested when she wasn't, and it would be rude to seem disappointed with how proud Mrs Lennox was.

"You really have seen to everything Mrs Lennox." Anna said gratefully. "I don't know how to thank you." She took Mrs Lennox's hands in her own, focusing on the cheerful woman. Her smile really was infectious. "I am truly grateful for you welcoming me to Silvercreek."
She was grateful, even if the thought of living in this 'hut' was nauseating, that she seemed to have at least one ally here.

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lennox, blind to the fact that Anna was appalled by the place, beamed. It never occurred to her that the young Miss could be anything but thrilled! After all, it was the best house bar the ranch-house, and was made of stone! What young person wouldn't be delighted? Of course, the kindly Mrs Lennox had no idea that Anna came from a mansion and even their lowest rank of servant had better accommodation.

"Oh I am so pleased," she smiled and patted her hand. She gestured to the patchwork quilt, that displayed the design of the tree of life, a popular one for such quilts. "The old school-marm sewed this herself, such fine work isn't it? She was a very self-sufficient woman, she made all the rugs and bits and pieces here to make it more homely. We used to jest to one another that if such things were left to the mayor or the other men, we'd all be living in filth!"

She chuckled, "Isn't that right, Mr Ross?"

Arthur, still in the main room, appeared at the edge of the curtain, hat in his hand, "I have no doubt, Mrs Lennox. I am sure though, if we strayed, you should have us back on the straight and narrow within half a second." It was clear, when speaking with his boss's wife, Arthur took care to use more 'proper' speech.

Mrs Lennox laughed fondly. "Indeed," she turned back to Anna. "Now Miss Belle, as your pupils are currently without a teacher, they've been given the time off. I think we should allow them a few more days, which will let you settle in, and you can prepare and such, rather than being thrown in," she chuckled. "You attend church, of course?"

She gestured, "I can't convince Mr Ross, a decent man as he is, to attend," she added, without any actual heat. It was clear she was fond of the man. "I keep telling him, he shall end up in hell!"

Arthur smirked and replied, in a tone that suggested this conversation had been had before, "I hope it's hot and terrible, Mrs Lennox, or else I shall feel you have sold me a false bill of goods."

Mrs Lennox shook her head and waved her hand, with a smile. "Oh go on with you, Mr Ross. You go tend to the horses. If you speak to my driver, he has a list from my husband for you, of goods to collect."

"Ma'am," Arthur nodded, then nodded to Anna, "Miss Belle, a pleasure." Before he departed, his tread heavy on the wooden boards.

"Ah...Now where was I...Church, yes," Mrs Lennox carried on, "If you accompany me, I can introduce you to the families and such you shall be teaching, most attend church, a few do not but I hope that shall not turn you against them. They are all good children, really. Some have it harder than others though," she sighed. "I feel for them, I really do..."

[Kach]

The room was certainly not without... character. It did have a certain, lived in feel to it. At least there was a floor.

"She must have been a very hearty woman." Anna remarked, wondering where the woman who used to live here ended up.
She found the remark about the men odd. Her father had been a very capable man, who saw to the manor diligently. Certainly he didn't sew blankets, or wash floors, those were womanly or servant's duties; but he did tidy when he made a mess and do his share of duties around the home.

Oblivious to the polishing of Arthur's speech, examining the finer details of the room, it seemed well dusted and the air seemed to flow well with the open windows.

She turned to face Mrs. Lennox. Taking some time to acclimatize herself to the town seemed a prudent course of action given the situation. She would have to put in a bit of extra effort to get the children caught up on their studies.
"A wise course of action." Anna remarked.

"Of course, every week as the Lord intends. After all, one never knows when they will meet their maker..." Anna seemed to somewhere else, her face becoming solemn for a moment.

Attention turning to Arthur, her gaze was disapproving. She had thought to chide him for behaving like a child, but thought it rude in the presence of Mrs Lennox and held her tongue. Perhaps she could make mention of it later. After all, it was her duty as a godly woman.

It grated on Anna that Arthur seemed to straighten up around Mrs Lennox but not her. She was a stranger to him, he should have been on his most formal behavior, not nearly so familiar. Despite herself she offered a curtesy as he departed.

Mrs Lennox really was a talker, Anna smiled in amusement as the woman stoked up the conversation once more. Nodding in agreement, she couldn't get a word in edgewise, she offered her arm to the matriarch.

"I assure you Mrs. Lennox, I will be a fair and impartial educator and tend my flock diligently." Anna patted the woman's hand resting on her arm. "I am rather excited to meet them. Perhaps it would be best if I tidied from the road first? It wouldn't do to have their first impression of me being slovenly."

[DuchessLivilla]

"Oh! Silly me, of course dear child," she beamed, "You take your time. The fire is burning so I'll set some water on to heat and you can wash if you like. I'm afraid there is no tin bath here but the inn has a fine bath you can use as you wish. As you shall have the innkeeper's daughter as one of your students I am sure he shall let you use it free of charge."

Mrs Lennox smiled again as she glanced out of the window to see Arthur talking to her driver. "I hope Mr Ross was pleasant company on the journey?" She asked, "I am most fond of him, and I know my husband feels the same. A most capable man in many ways, and possessed of a good heart, though he hides it." She chuckled, "I wish he would find himself a good woman and settle down, but I have had no more luck on that line than I have on trying to get him to come to church! Like most men, he is stubborn as a mule."

She turned back to Anna, "You're not thinking of marriage yet, child? It's how we lost our old school-marm...Stunned everyone, I must say! She was almost my age, well past such things we all thought, then suddenly she announces she had accepted the proposal of Mr Wells, a rancher about a hundred miles west! He has been married before, of course, and has a brood of children in want of a mother, and he was in want of wife so it seems like a good match for all concerned but it was a shock! I suppose one never knows the truth about a person!"

Mrs Lennox laughed again. "Oh, here I am rattling on again. You must stop me when I do that, Miss Belle! It's just so nice to have a lady to talk too again. I am not so mindful of the footings of society but still, one always likes to be with one's own, I think. And it being a ranching town, men do outnumber us!" She smiled, "And as fond as I am of my husband, and Mr Ross, one cannot have a proper conversation with them most of the time. You are, of course, welcome at the ranch any time! Mr Ross is in town most days and you just ask him to take you with him, it will be no trouble I am sure."

She bustled into the living room and set a cauldron of water to heat on the fire before she added, "Can you ride, Miss Belle? Horses and such I mean? It was part of the lessons when I was a girl but then again, my father was a rancher like my husband," she laughed softly, "It might not be common where you grew up as it is here."

[Kach]

Anna relaxed at the woman's smile, she was disarmingly pleasent. She relished the thought of a bath, but it was later in the day already and she would likely be into evening by the time she bathed and redressed. So a basin wash would have to do for now.

Charging for a bath... It had never occurred to her before, but it did make sense for a business. She hoped that Mrs Lennox was correct and that she could make liberal use of it.

"He was, pleasent." Anna agreed diplomatically. It made sense The Lennox's thought well of Arthur. After all it wouldn't do to send an unreliable man on such an errand, but he appeared to be in high regard.
Anna had a hard time imaging a woman tolerating the man, let alone marrying him. She chuckled lightly. "My mother had a saying on this matter. 'men's heads are full of rocks, you can pound on them all day but nothing will give. But with a little finesse, perhaps you can rearrange the stones into a more pleasing pile.' I had not truely understood that saying until today."

Blushing lightly at the question, surely she didn't intend to marry her off to Arthur, did she? Certainly not, he was much too old. She hadn't put much thought into it since she had fled, though a marriage to a capeable man would put another large roadblock in her uncle's plans. Could she stand to marry a provincial man? She had always expected to be courted by a proper gentleman though she hadn't relished the idea.

"Perhaps one day, it is not something I have put much thought into with the task I have at hand."

"Perish the thought. I am more than pleased to be in your company Mrs Lennox."
Anna was hungry for information on the community to get the key of the land. If there were any pitfalls or ongoing concerns this was the person who would know of them.
She shared the sentiment, finding a man that could carry on a worthwhile conversation was always a tiring search, even in Boston.

"I am greatful for the invitation, I will be sure to make use of it. Of course you're more than welcome in my humble abode as well if you need a rest from the ranch."

Horses. Of course people would ride out here. The large distance between ranches and towns would make it necessary. Anna had a mistrust of horses. She couldn't explain it, she had no real reason to dislike them, but she couldn't even bring herself to touch them when tied into a wagon.
"I am afraid horsemanship was not something I have dabbled in. I am a seamstress of some regard, and an able floutist as well, though I currently lack an instrument."
Anna did not wish to discuss her childish fear of horses, though she did mean to find a replacement flute.

Taking her suitcase off of the floor by the door, she took it to the bed and set it on top. Opening it, she carefully took out her mother's silvered hand mirror. She began examining her hair and face. The travel had really done a number on her.

[DuchessLivilla]

"No matter," Mrs Lennox smiled. "I am sure you can learn. It's easy once you get the knack of it! I am sure Mr Ross can give you lessons at the ranch, if you wish. We have a few older mares who are very docile...you'd be quite safe. Think about it," she chuckled. "It's something to behold, this landscape from the back of a horse. Ah...In my youth I spend many an hour exploring the locality. I miss it. I must do it again."

"Now," she gestured, "I'll leave you to wash and change and such, I'll wait outside with Mr Ross. Oh, while we are out we can call at the general store, and get you some provisions. Arthur can carry them," she chuckled. "As you say, men have their uses do they not!"

Smiling, Mrs Lennox went out and closed the door, leaving Anna alone. After her constant talk, the sudden silence -the stone walls of the squat cottage did a fine job of blocking out the noise of the street- was rather welcome.

Through the little window she could see Mrs Lennox go down the garden path and fall into an easy conversation with Arthur and her coachman. IT was something really...such familiarity would be rare in Boston!

[Kach]

Doing her best not to turn the woman down flat, Anna adopted a thoughtful expression. It would have to be a very desperate time indeed for her to be induced to ride on such a beast.
Grinning at Mrs Lennox she nodded her head.
"Well it would seem they can be made of use."

She watched the woman go and for the first time since leaving the room in Springfield she was truly alone.
It was; pleasant. The small room did have a coziness to it with the fire happily crackling.

The water in the hearth was beginning to steam, she carefully filled a metal cup and began filling the wash basin. She wouldn't have as much time as she would have liked to tidy, but she could wash her face, and change out of her dusty clothes.


Luckily she had taken great care folding her dress before packing it. It had a few creases, but was less rumpled than the dress she had been wearing. She probably felt better than she looked. Removing the grime of the road and the old sweat had rejuvenated her.

Anna stepped out of her new home in a pale yellow dress with white stripes running down the length of her skirt and a white long sleeved blouse with a neat black bow-tie tied at her neck.Her hair, cut short and dyed black in Springfield, had been tidied and the few rouge strands recaptured.
Her clean face looked porcelain in the bright sunlight. She squinted, the sun in her eyes as she walked over to Mrs Lennox.

"My thanks for waiting, shall we Mrs Lennox?" She didn't give any head to Arthur.

[DuchessLivilla]

Both Arthur and the coachman, who had lit cigarettes and stood talking in low voices as Anna emerged from her new home, stared as she did so. A cough from Mrs Lennox had both of them dropped and stubbing out their cigarettes and trying to appear as if they had not been staring.

"Hoo-eee," the coachman muttered, low enough that only Arthur caught it.

He shot the man a look and ran a hand through his hair before replacing his hat.

Mrs Lennox, oblivious to this exchange, smiled, "Ah, Miss Belle, you look as pretty as a picture! Yellow becomes you right well. Does it not, Mr Ross?"

Arthur, who had not expected this, blinked and said, rubbing his neck, "I couldn't say, Mrs Lennox. I've no notion of fashions..."

"No, I suppose not," she chuckled, "Unless it was leather." She took Anna's hand, "Now, there are a few houses we can visit here in town first and then Mr Adams here can drive us to the smaller farmsteads so we can meet those families. Mr Ross, you'll come with us...Just in case. You know why."

"Yes, ma'am, of course," he replied, nodding. He knew well enough. Most folks in Silvercreek were fine folks, but even the best of places had those bad apples with tempers, especially if unemployment and drink was involved. One or two of the fathers, and a couple of the mothers, of the children Miss Belle would be teaching, were known to like a drink and could be mean with it.

Not to mention several lived with their mother's in the brothel...It would not do for Mrs Lennox to go there alone, with just another lady!

"Should we go to...Mrs Wells, first? Get that...ah, out of the way before it gets too late?"

Mrs Lennox glanced at him and nodded, "Oh. Yes, yes, a good idea. Mrs Wells first then." She turned to Anna as they set off down the dusty street, "Now Miss Belle, do not be alarmed, I beg you. I do not know how much of the world you have seen but...well, certain, rather unseemly things do exist and ah, Mrs Wells provides one of them to the men of this town. I don't hold truck with it, to be sure! But some of the...the ladies that work there have children that do not deserve to miss out on an education."

She smiled gently, "Try not to be alarmed by anything you may see. Mrs Wells is...How would you describe her, Mr Ross?"

Arthur, trailing behind, one thumb resting in his suspenders, looked up, "Ah..." he floundered briefly on how to describe her in terms Miss Belle would understand. "She's...eccentric, I suppose, ma'am."

"Yes! That is just the word...Eccentric," Mrs Lennox chuckled, a hint of nerves in her voice, as if the new school-marm would judge them all based on the brothel madam. "Here we are," they approached a large wooden building, with a sagging porch and balcony above. From the open windows on the first floor music could be heard, and garish red curtains blew in and out with the light breeze.

A young woman, dressed in a rather revealing gown of blue, pulled at the shoulders so that it hung a little looser, to show off her shoulders and cleavage, smiled from the porch where she was leaning. "A'right, Mrs Lennox? Fancy seeing you here. You'll be wanting t'see Mrs Wells, then?"

Mrs Lennox, smiling tightly, "Ah...yes, yes, thank you, Clara, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied, smirking and batting her eyelashes at Arthur, who resolved to keep his gaze fixed on the wooden wall of the building. Clara grinned then stood and waved them towards her, "Follow me then," she said, turned and wandering into the bar area of the brothel. "Mrs Wells!" She shouted as she did so. She had to shout over the music and the talking of the patrons, as well as the giggles and shouts of several children who were running in and out of the large saloon style room. "Mrs Lennox is here t'see you!"

From above, where there was a gallery surrounding the open space, allowing you to look down into the saloon as you went in and out of the various doors that Anna could see, a woman leaned over and smiled. She was a buxom woman in her forties by the look of her, but whereas Mrs Lennox -also rather plump- was a homely looking woman, this lady oozed appeal. From the vantage point below, the newcomers got, whether they wished it or not, a perfect view of her vast clevage and bosom, which was straining against her tightly laced silk gown.

"Mrs Lennox," the woman purred, coming around the gallery and descending the stairs. Her dress was, to Anna's eyes, expensive and very modern for such a place -she clearly had connections elsewhere- and showed off her curves to great effect. Either naturally, or by the help of a tight corset, her waist, for her size, was very narrow and gave her a perfect hourglass shape. She had a clear, earthy appeal to men, that was for sure.

As she came closer, in a cloud of perfume, many a man's head turned from the girl they had been dandling on their knee to watch her pass.

"Such a pleasure to see you again, and in my fair establishment! What a treat, I do say," she smiled and looked to Anna, "Ah, and who is this fair creature? A lost lamb in need of a home, maybe? She would certainly suit! Such a pretty face, she would have the men eating out of her hand in an hour I am sure!"

Mrs Lennox coughed and smiled thinly, "No. No, Mrs Wells, this is Miss Belle, the new schoolmarm. I wished to introduce her to her new chagres."

"Ah!" Mrs Well chuckled, "How silly of me, of course. Still, such a shame..." Her eyes flicked to Arthur and something passed between them.

He, in turn, nodded, "Ma'am."

"Oh, Arthur, don't be so formal," she chided him, with a wink. "We know each other too well for that, now!"

Arthur actually smiled at that, "I'm sorry, Mrs Wells. How d'you do today?"

"Well enough, yes," she replied, nodding. "Life goes on, as it were, does it not?"

"Oh, indeed it does."

Mrs Lennox coughed again and Arthur fell silent. "The children, Mrs Wells, might we see them? We have many a house to visit today."

Mrs Wells smirked, "Of course...And I know how you feel about my home so I shall gather them out back, shall I? Away from the noise..."

"Yes, that would be best...We shall await you there!" Mrs Lennox took Anna's arm and, with purpose, lead her through the saloon, as if scared she would be snatched, and out a smaller door into a yard with several washing lines and a well.

[Kach]

Anna nodded politely to Mrs Lennox but she eyed the pair of men with untrusting eyes. She didn't like to be oggled, and this pair seemed the type. The men here seemed, rougher. Like un-sanded wood. They lacked the stately handsome faces she was used to seeing. They reminded her of old groundskeepers she had seen, weathered by a lifetime in the sun.
Mrs Lennox seemed to have a handle on Arthur and it satisfied her that he seemed to know his place. She wasn't well pleased that he would be joining them, but it did make sense, a pair of ladies should be escorted about.

At first confused, she wasn't sure what Mrs. Lennox was on about, she listened intently and politely. She was curious more than anything at that moment. When Mrs. Lennox seemed to be at a loss, and offered a cryptic warning, she really didn't know what to think.
The building they walked toward didn't seem remarkable, though it seemed lively with the sounds of music and conversation drifting out the open windows.

She was a bit startled at the sight of the woman in blue. Her dress was well made and of quality, but much too revealing.
The woman clipped her words in what Anna would call a very provincial manor. She did her best to keep her expression neutral.
As she followed, she couldn't help but frown at the woman's bellowing. Where they in a stock yard? When they entered she noticed much drink and revelry, and both genders being much too familiar with each other.
This would not be an establishment she intended to visit.

It was hard not to notice Mrs Wells on the balcony above, a contemporarily beautiful woman in a fine silken dress. She oozed confidence. Now this was lady. Mrs Lennox had the air of command and certainty about her; but Mrs Wells had Charisma. She couldn't take her eyes off of the woman, and felt all eyes in the room become stuck to her as well.
Her voice was well spoken and seemingly educated, and not without a hint of sharpness. Perhaps her and Mrs Lennox did not always see eye to eye. First impressions made her weary, this woman seemed to be fiendishly cleaver.

Anna did her best to keep her calm at Mrs. Wells' remark though a flush of embarrassment betrayed her. One had to maintain their bearing around potential enemies until on could suss out their goals.
Anna offered a respectful nod at Mrs Lennox's introduction.

Anna was taken aback by Mrs Wells' remark. Why would she bring up her, Familiarity, with Arthur? Simply to jab at Mrs Lennox? Perhaps mark her territory in the face of a newcomer? It was a curious exchange. She was slightly disappointed when Mrs. Lennox ended it.
The woman seemed out of her element as she hustled Anna through the building and out the back. Anna spared a few scowls for men who stared to dreamily in their stupor.

Not seeing Arthur immediately behind them, Anna couldn't help but give into her curiosity as she spoke softly.
"Mrs Wells, appears to be very familiar with Mr Ross, are they engaged? Or perhaps estranged?"

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lennox blinked at Anna's remark and chuckled nervously as she lead Anna into a scrubby yard, with lines of washing hanging out, "Oh! No, no, child! Perish the thought! No! Mr Ross has no wife, nor ever has, or even been close to such a thing, as far as I know. I do not pry into men's affairs...No..." She drew out a fan, showing a biblical scene -the juxtaposition of that and the place there were in would have been comical had Anna not been too naive to know in what type of house they were!- and hastily fanned herself. "Mrs Wells has...many admirers, I am sure, and if Mr Ross is one of them, I do not pry," she replied again.

Anna had been right in her earlier assessment. This was, very clearly, a place in which Mrs Lennox was out of her element. Mrs Wells, for whatever reason, had shaken her earlier confidence. It was all very perplexing!

Arthur strolled out a few seconds later and closed the door behind him. He hooked his fingers into his braces and leaned against the wooden wall of the building, keeping his distance from the ladies, to let them talk, but also being present, in case he was needed and in case anyone tried to hassle them. Not that he expected it. Mrs Wells had her gentlemen callers on tight leashes! Even the roughest man in town would tip his hat to her and step out of her way. She had that manner about her; rather like the prow of a ship...crowds just parted for her!

He chuckled to himself and lit a cigarette. He was rather enjoying the looks on Mrs Lennox's and Miss Belle's faces; the young miss's for sure. He was convinced she hadn't realised what kind of a place she had just been in...And he wondered what would happen when it finally clicked. Hysterics maybe? Shock and horror? Disgust and judgement? Likely that last one.

Arthur was a pragmatist in such matters; the women who worked here were well looked after by Mrs Wells, who'd tolerate no abuse, and the men in the town were less violent when they'd seen a whore. It worked all around. Of course, he knew that it wasn't a perfect arrangement and many a man spent his wages here with whores and drink and his family went without, but such was the world.

Clara came around the side of the house then, giggling as she did so. Behind her came a small gaggle of children, perhaps a dozen or so, boys and girls, ranging from four or five to perhaps eleven or twelve. One of the older girls, nearer twelve than most, was holding a chubby toddler on her hip.

Mrs Lennox gave the girl a mild look of horror and Arthur could tell she was worried that the toddler was the girl's baby. He knew though that it was her little sister. He caught Mrs Lennox eye and shook his head with a small smile to keep that thought from her head. He'd not have stood for anything like that, and neither would Mrs Wells! Money or not money!

Clara grinned. "D'you want them to line up or what, Mrs Lennox? We wasn't sure on the ages you wanted so I brought them all, aside from the babies. But I can get 'em if you want."

Mrs Lennox smiled tightly. There were more than she had expected! "No, no," she waved a hand. "This is fine...Miss Belle cannot teach babies but when the time comes, of course, they are welcome..." She glanced at Anna, "Would you say four or five for the minimum age, Miss Belle? If memory serves, the previous Miss said five but then there were none of four at the time she started. She tended to take whoever came..."

She lowered her voice and said softly, "The children here will often be late or not come. It is the way of their mother's work to sleep in and such, and if they have no siblings, they will do the same and not come."

[Kach]

Very curious. Mrs Lennox seemed quite fustered by Mrs Wells. An interesting development. Mrs Lennox herself did not seem an admirer, so perhaps the woman was a rival, but in what? Maybe influence in the town? Mrs Wells did carry herself with Authority.
She would need to do some digging into that. She would not ask Arthur though if she had any other option.

Her musing was interrupted by the joyful and plaintiff noises of children. Having only tutored and been tutored, she had little experience with commoner's children. They were messy and unkempt, smeared with dust or dirt from playing outside but she smiled warmly at them anyway.

She would have preferred if the had lined up rather than left in a messy group, shoving to be in the middle of the group; close enough to see the new teacher, but safe behind another.

Turning to Mrs Lennox, she agreed. "Yes, five years seems acceptable. Though if they are mature enough to receive instruction I see no need to turn them away."
Truth be told, she had only taught up to three older children at a time. She's didn't let her uncertainty show.
"That won't due at all." She whispered back, her face becoming formal. Her mother had always impressed upon her the importance of punctuality and education.
"Hello Children, I am Mrs Belle, your new teacher." She said formally and loud enough the children quieted before continuing more softly.
"I am looking forward to teaching you all. You are to tell your parents that your lessons start in two days time, and I expect you all to be there, and in your seats at half past eight. Tarty pupils will be given a warning for there first offense, and a rap on the knuckles there after for each consecutive day late.
Absent students without suitable cause will be switched. This is a small town and there are few places for you to hide." She eyed the students, each in turn.
"Your education is important, and timleyness is essential for any work you may grow up to do. The late farmer starves. The late merchant cannot sell his wears, and the late woman never weds." She paused to let it sink in. Her mother had often reminded her of these points.
"Are there any questions?"

[DuchessLivilla]

The older children gave Miss Belle a once over -the look learned from their mother's who had to assess whether this client was going to be worth it...or hit them- as she spoke. Several of them had the distinct look in their faces that they viewed the idea of being at school every day was a little too much to expect! There were far better things to be upto!

From his space, leaning against the wall, Arthur gave a chuckle and adjusted his hat. Miss Belle had more chance of finding a diamond in her porridge than of the children being on time! Still, he held his tongue; she'd soon learn. This wasn't her posh city, with uniformed young'uns skipping to school each morning. Half the kids had jobs themselves most days.

He did glance at Mrs Lennox though and wondered if she'd see sense.

Luckily for the children's hands and behinds, she did cough and drew Miss Belle to one side. "Now dear, I know you wish to have authority, and granted it is needed when dealing with them but perhaps the leven of a little sweetness is needed? Especially here, they have to keep an eye on younger siblings and so on. And the framers' children have even more tasks and sometimes will not be able to attend. There are a few who go with their father's to the mines some days as well. I should have said but I assumed you would know such. No harm done."

She smiled gently. "Just be grateful when they arrive is all I can suggest and take each day as it comes. This is not the city."

[Kach]

A thin frown creased Anna's lips. This was quite obviously not the city, and how would they expect to become one with children running about shoeless and playing in the mud! She could understand that some less well off families would need their children's help at times, but children working in a mine!

"Surely you don't intend to commit children to a life of ignorant destitution Mrs Lennox? How are they to become upstanding members of society if they cannot read, write or count? Surely even a small sacrifices now can pay great dividends in a few years when the children are grown." She spoke articulately and softly with conviction.
"I am certainly willing to concede that some older children need not come every day provided they check in regularily and receive direction for study; but I would vehemently oppose a pupil of mine setting foot in a mine shaft at any time."

She turned back to address the children, he face once again smooth.
"I will be speaking with all of your parents, any pupils deemed needed at home, maybe permitted an alternate schedule. As well, the first student seated in time for class every day will receive one sweet."

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lennox smiled gently and just patted her hand. She could do little else; such was the world they lived in and it would not change any time soon. "My dear," she did add though, "Those who succeed normally leave little places like this, they do not stay, unless they take to ranching or open a store. As for children in the mine, if they do not work, their family goes without a much needed wage. Any family, with other mouths to feed, is going to chose working over, as they see it, pointless time wasted in a class."

The children listened and, like a match to tinder, perked right up when there was mention of sweets!

By the wall, Arthur chuckled audibly at that and took a drag on his cigarette. One of the boys, aged about twelve or so, came over and said, "Ere' can I have one, mister?"

Arthur looked at him and rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket for the pack, "Alright, alright, just the one, mind," he handed it over and let the lad light it from his own before saying, with a wink, "Just don't let Miss Belle catch yer doin' it at school. Or else it'll be the switch!"

Given this was done just feet from said Miss and Mrs Lennox too, they could not fail to notice. Mrs Lennox did not looked shocked, nor even disapproving of such things and merely shook her head fondly. It was clear she had a great affection for Mr Ross, for all his roughness.

[Kach]

Mrs. Lennox's words broke her heart. She was not certain which was a greater tragedy; the children forced to work to keep their family fed and clothed, or the fact that everyone in this tiny town seemed to take it in stride.

Anna's frown softened as her brow furrowed with concern. What other things would be different here?

Noticing the boy approach Arthur, her eyes hardened when he produced a cigarette. Anna didn't care for the smell, it stung her eyes and nose and lingered about much too long; Mercifully they were outside.
She really had no idea what endured Arthur to Mrs Lennox. The man was rough as a brick.

"School will resume Monday, I will expect to see you there." Anna addressed the students before turning to Mrs Lennox.
"I suppose we should move on to the next group?"

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lennox nodded and reached into her bag to take out a rather large paper bag; she handed it to the eldest girl with a smile, "There you go, child. Share them out, mind you."

This went down very well, and certainly endeared the children to this idea of school! If sweets were involved...well, it might not be so bad!

Arthur waited as they walked passed him before, with a wink, tossing the packet of cigarettes -card included- to the lad. "Don't smoke 'em all at once," he quipped then followed on, finishing his quickly and dropping it before they reached the street again, down a little side-alley.

"Now...Mr Ross," Mrs Lennox turned to him. "Should we do the farms outwith first? I'd rather not be out as the sun starts to set."

"Course, Mrs Lennox, I'd not have that for you ladies either," Arthur replied. "Best we go to the Henderson's first then, they're farther out," he glanced at Anna and said, "Just a mile or so, Miss Belle, ain't no cause for alarm." The way he said it was meant well, but it could easily be taken as teasing; as a jibe at the city girl having to 'rough it' and so on.

Arthur strolled ahead to the waiting wagon and stood, ready to help the ladies into it.

Mrs Lennox, bustling jovial matron that she was, leant heavily on his hand as she climbed up then settled herself, adjusting her hat and beaming.

"Miss Belle," Arthur held out his hand to her. "Watch yer' step, miss," he added, again, kindly meant but still. He had not said the same to Mrs Lennox, who could be thought much more likely to trip or fall.

[Kach]

Anna observed with a light heart as the excited children murmured excitedly at the small sweets and gathered around the young girl who handed them out with the authority of noble. It seemed a life time ago when she would have been bustling with other children, jostling for position as the teacher handed out sweets.

Walking along side Mrs Lennox, the pair floated toward the wagon. Anna let out a sniff of derision at Arthur's remark.
"Mrs Lennox seems to think you competent enough, I trust a Ladies judgement. Considering how difficult good help is to find in the city, you must have to make due with what you can get out here Mrs Lennox. It must be a formidable challenge."

Anna watched carefully as the stout woman smoothly climbed the wagon, brow furrowed in consideration. Approaching after Mrs Lennox had gotten settled, fire raged behind her eyes as she looked to Arthur and took his rough hand in hers. "Thank you for your concern." She replied pointedly before awkwardly climbing into the seat of the wagon. Now with quite rumpled skirts, Arthur nearly had to push her up into the seat, she sat beside the Matron.
"How many stops do you anticipate Mrs Lennox?" She asked, still fussing over her skirts, expecting a broken neck from a fall would end her adventure before the day was done.

[DuchessLivilla]

Mrs Lennox, entirely at ease in the wagon, which was surprising given her apparently snobbish nature, smiled. "Ah, three or four I think, if memory serves. Not all the farms and ranches have children of schooling age, and one or two of them have children but have no wish to send them to school."

She shook her head and looked over at Anna, "We do have, Miss Belle, a few men of means outwith the township that, I am afraid to say, have very old fashioned views. There's one, Mr Bray, who...well, I don't like to talk ill of folks but he is about the meanest man ever to walk God's green earth. Don't you agree, Mr Ross?"

Arthur chuckled as he took his seat, flicking the reins to set them moving. "Sure is, ma'am."

"He has 3 daughters, beautiful girls, and so sweet it near breaks your heart," Mrs Lennox carried on, sighing. "The eldest is about twelve now, I think, and the youngest not above eight or so. He holds that women are not to learn anything but what their menfolk tell them." She snorted. "Poor things. He won't let them attend school, and the only time they come to town is for church, where they never say a word. I don't think anyone has heard them speak beyond 'amen'. It's shameful. It really is. I dread to think what goes on in that house."

"Always look like they've the weight of the world on their shoulders, that's for sure," Arthur quipped, shaking his head. He knew of the man too, and none of it was pleasant.

"Indeed. So we shall not be calling on Mr Bray. I have no desire to have a shotgun waved at me!" Mrs Lennox took out her fan and started up with it. She patted Anna's hand gently and smiled, "Never mind it, Miss Belle. There are wrongun's everywhere! Most folks here are good and decent people, hard workers who do right by God and their families. But sin comes to all places, sadly."

The wagon left the town behind, trundling back down the dirt road with the wide expanse of the flat land either side, hardly a landmark to be seen bar distant farm-houses and the occasional water tower or windmill. It was desolate and yet strangely beautiful in a raw way.

Mrs Lennox smiled again. "Ah, 'tis fine country here, that's for sure. Open and honest. God's land indeed."

Arthur chuckled and flicked the reins again before he glanced at Anna. "How do you find it, Miss Belle? I reckon it's mighty different than the big city."

[Kach]

Anna was beginning to loath wagon travel. With any luck, after today she would not have to leave the town frequently.

Word of Mr Bray troubled Anna a great deal. Not that long ago she had nearly been in the same situation; menfolk could be truly despicable creatures. She would find a way to help those girls, she would have to be careful, very careful, but she would.
Anna nodded thoughtfully as Mrs Lennox spoke, pursing her lips, unable to smile at the grim topic.
"Indeed it does Mrs Lennox, indeed it does..."

Looking around at the dusty ground covered in small dry scrub brush, and rocky outcroppings, the land seemed a wasteland. Turning back to catch a glance at the disappearing island of civilization Anna remarked. "It is very, empty... do any animals live around here? I heard there were buffalo and all sorts of giant animals, the like of Africa, on the plains of the interior."
She glanced over at Arthur, her distain finally overtaken by her curiosity.