Sarah

Sarah Grant

Sarah walked slowly down the mainstreet. It was one of the few times of late that she had come into town purely for her own pleasure. Of course she hadn’t been totally unescorted. One of her father’s men had driven her in and was doubtless kicking his heels in the local saloon whilst she took the opportunity to make a few feminine purchases. Not that he would dare become inebriated whilst responsible for the welfare of her father’s only daughter.

No one crossed William Grant if they knew what was good for them.
In business he was ruthless, as an employer he was demanding, but as a father …

Sarah smiled fondly as she entered what was grandly termed the “emporium” of the town. With a greeting and an assurance that she was in no hurry Sarah left Mrs Hudson to serve the middle aged lady Sarah knew as Elizabeth Blake, an all-seeing gossip. If only Ms Blake knew how Sarah’s father spoke of her, she might be less likely to pass comment upon their family business.

Yet for all his bluster, Sarah had rarely seen her father lose control. Even when in a temper he seemed to keep himself in check and retain control of both his words and actions. What Sarah did not appreciate of course, was that this sang-froid also made her father coldly calculating and potentially a dangerous adversary.

Yet to the daughter who had always been the apple of her daddy’s eye, especially after her mother’s death when she was just 8 years old William Grant was a doting and loving parent who not only loved, but protected her, all be it now she had reached the age of 19, she was just beginning to find her limited world within the ranch somewhat … limited …

”Lace is it …?”

Sarah looked up as Margaret Hudson approached aware of the former customer taking an unnecessarily long time to adjust her purchases before exiting.

”Lace … yes … could I see these … “

Sarah pointed out her selections and moved closer to inspect the lengths with little comment before the door opened and closed and the room was empty once more. The two women shared a laugh as the whole tone of the conversation changed …

”Actually … there were a few things I wanted you to help me with … and after that … well … it’s daddy’s birthday in just under two weeks … and … “

For the next 20 minutes the two conferred and plotted.
For Sarah who lacked any kind of female influence, Margaret was the closest to any maternal figure she had in her life.
Perhaps that was one reason why Sarah had begun of late to come into town more and more often.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy running the home, or even riding over the property in an attempt to keep involved in what was happening on the ranch. Sarah had always been used to the male dominated environment and had always found the men sociable:
But … there had been a subtle change of late and what had been easy camaraderie when she was a child now seemed …. difficult somehow …

The dynamics of her home life weren’t something Sarah had consciously thought about. If she had, she might have realised that her father was the reason that every man on the ranch now watched himself and was careful not to cross the line with the boss’s daughter.
If asked Sarah would describe herself as happy and content with life, but even though she had turned into a young woman, there was still a sweet naivety about her.

By the time purchases had been wrapped and stowed safely in her basket and after the obligatory exchange of news over 40 minutes had passed. With a reluctant farewell, Sarah carried the now heavily laden basket and stepped out into the street, her mind full of projects to occupy her on her return home …


http://www.2hairstyles.com/images/long13.jpg

William Grant

William Grant sat in the well appointed study of his large and sprawling ranch estate. Despite the rough and harsh conditions of the lands he'd settled, William had always taken care to make sure his home had still given the impression that it was part of civilization. Originally, this had been a nod to Julia's interests. She'd been a woman who cared a great deal about her surroundings and William had always done what he'd could to accommodate her. He had always reasoned that he'd asked a great deal of wealthy Virginian socialite like Julia to come west with him so it was the least he could do to bring a bit of Virginia west with her. The house he'd built resembled the Richmond mansions he'd seen as a youth as opposed to the ranch houses that were more common to the area.

"Sir?" There was a knock on the door, it was Theresa the former slave who had been William's maid for nearly 10 years "The wagon is here"

William smiled wearily and nodded his head.

"Thank you, Theresa. Show my guest to the study if you will" William stood from the desk he'd been sitting at and made his way to one of the two chairs in the room. A few minutes passed the door opened again. Theresa led a large man into the room.

"John" William rose, a genuine smile on his face, to shake the man's hand. The man was a distinctive character. Taller than William, and William was tall, but with a stomach that bulged against the vest of his expensive suit. Thinning and greying red hair was offset by the large, bushy moustache and sideburns that obscured much of his face. The man was John Corrigan, he'd served with William in the war and was now a well connected lawyer in Austin.

"I think I've said you can call me Jack about a hundred times, William" Corrigan responded with a laugh and met the hand shake.

"You know I've never been one for informal names, John" William emphasized his friend's name with some humour "and nothing has changed. My stars, the things some of the men who drive cattle want to be called. Please, sit"

The two men sat in the plush chairs that angled towards each other slightly.

"Can I get you anything sir?" Theresa asked, drawing a look from both men. The look from Corrigan was one of mild humour, from William of kindness.

"No, thank you Theresa" William shook his head, catching the look on his friend's face. Theresa left the room, leaving the two men alone.

"You'll never change, will you?" Corrigan said with something of an annoyed laugh, setting down the briefcase he'd been carrying.

"I don't know what you mean, John. Cigar?" William

"Thank you" Corrigan took the cigar and put it in his mouth, unlit "and you know exactly what I mean. Hiring a negro maid, keeping her in the house with your daughter"

William looked somewhat amused as he replied

"Firstly, John, I'll thank you not to curse in my home. Secondly, Theresa is an excellent and conscientious employee which is all I've ever cared about. There are no ulterior motives here" William said this with something of a mock indignation.

"Mmmmm," Corrigan acknowledged as he lit the cigar "So your hiring her had nothing to do with sticking a thumb in the eyes of the wealthy men you so frequently railed against while dining with your fellow officers. What was it you'd say? That 'sending decent christians to die so they could avoid paying their help would ensure them all a stern rebuke their maker', right?"

William chuckled as he remembered some of the diatribes he'd launched into.

"No, John, hiring Theresa is simply a matter of finding a good employee." William's voice allowed a momentary pause for effect "Paying her obscenely well for maid's work, that's the aforementioned thumb in the proverbial eye."

The two men both heartily laughed at this. William reached to a nearby table.

"Brandy, John?" William took a decanter and filled a glass with a healthy measure.

"I stand corrected" Corrigan waived off the drink "You have changed. You didn't have a drink after Gettysburg but now the abstinent young bible thumper will occasionally imbibe like the rest of us flawed mortals."

William smiled weakly at this and set his drink back down on the table.

"Not to be lacking in hospitality, John, but your letter spoke of business"

"Ah, yes" Corrigan picked up his briefcase and opened it, producing a letter. He handed it to William who immediately recognized the name on the letterhead

"The Governor again?" William shook his head

"They need that land, Will. The offer has increased to half a million dollars and a comparable piece of land that can be used to drive your herds." Corrigan implored with some urgency

"All this just to build another railroad" William shook his head in amazement. "Still, the sum will require me to give the proposition another fair shake. Let me talk to some of my men, discuss the viability of the new piece of land and I'll get back to you"

Corrigan knew a polite thanks but no thanks when he heard one.

"Will, if you're holding out for more money, I'm sure I can get more but...."

"John, like I said, let me think on the offer and I'll get back to you. In the meantime, you should enjoy your stay with us. When Sarah is back from town we'll all have dinner together"

"Ah yes, Sarah, I was hoping I could talk to you about her as well" Corrigan said uncomfortably

This piqued William's interest

"Oh?"

Seeing the young woman step out of a local shop, Eamon quickly did a mental check of his meager collection of belongings. Yes - everything was in order. He took the first step towards the woman, who seemed to be carrying quite the load in her basket. Straightening his coat with an idle hand as he approached her, he spoke.

"Aye, ahem, Ma'am." as he raised his gaze to her eyes.

"The, uh.. boys at the pub there, they said that you might be the lass to speak to if a fella needs a good, honest, job. Or, your father rather."

"..see, I'm new in town here, aye.. and, ..I have skills, Ma'am."

"Oh, pardon me if ya would, Ma'am. My name is Eamon.. Eamon O'Farrell"

Again, Eamon looks into the eyes of the young woman who very well may be his only chance at a decent job in town, while he saves up what he needs.

"May, I assist you with your, burden there.. Ma'am?"

Still smiling Sarah stepped out into the street and looked around trying to calculate if she had time for anything else before she had to return home. Only when the young man was almost in front of her did she notice him. Her eyes widened as she met those of the stranger. In such a town where her father was so well known she knew everyone, or at least knew of them, but she had no idea who this could be or why he was approaching her.

"Aye, ahem, Ma'am."

His strong accent drew Sarah’s curiosity instantly.

"The, uh.. boys at the pub there, they said that you might be the lass to speak to if a fella needs a good, honest, job. Or, your father rather."

She glanced behind him wondering who had made the recommendation and wondered what they had against the young man if they had advised he ask her for a job!

"..see, I'm new in town here, aye.. and, ..I have skills, Ma'am."

She could not help a smile then. Aside from him not being known to her, his accent and the fact that he had approached her made it clear that he was not familiar with the town in which he found himself.

"Oh, pardon me if ya would, Ma'am. My name is Eamon.. Eamon O'Farrell"

Although at first sight, Sarah had been unsure of the man before her, there was something in his manner that she warmed to.

”I’m Sarah … Sarah Grant Mr O’Farrell … as you must already know …”

"May, I assist you with your, burden there.. Ma'am?"

Sarah felt sorry for the man who was obviously trying so hard to make a good impression.

”That would be most welcome … “

She allowed him to take her basket which had indeed become weighty.

”I’m not sure how long I have before my driver returns, but … “

She wondered if she should let him come by the house to talk to her father … even ride back with her … surely daddy would give him a chance …? To her he seemed somewhat … lost … and it was a novelty to find someone who was not born and bred in that town.

”Tell me Mr O’Farrell … have you been here long …?”

She would have loved to question him about his homeland, but thought that might appear too … forward …

She allowed him to take her basket which had indeed become weighty.

Eamon stepped forward and gently relieved Miss Grant of her basket. Deciding not to retreat after his approach towards her.

”Tell me Mr O’Farrell … have you been here long …?”

"No, Ma'am. Only since late afternoon yesterday. I was actually just passing through, but it can be hard for a lad to earn his way from town to town at times, and when I caught mention of your father, Mr. Grant and his land.. well, I thought that perhaps he could use a fella like myself."

Eamon smiles briefly at Sarah. "Oh, and Eamon would do just fine if ya prefer it, Ma'am."

Chuckling to himself momentarily, Eamon remembers the days of running with his friends on the Emerald Isle - the few times he was ever referred to as "Mr. O'Farrell" and his group's teasing mockery.. tipping their hats and whatnot.

"Oh, Miss Grant. I believe your man should be out of the pub in no time.. he seemed to be keeping a keen eye on the door during his entire stay, aye he did."

Eamon begins a slow paced walk to Sarah's carriage.

Looking for some conversation starter, Eamon decides to go with something basic.

"Lovely weather ya have in these parts, if ya don't mind me sayin' so, Ma'am."

"No, Ma'am. Only since late afternoon yesterday. I was actually just passing through, but it can be hard for a lad to earn his way from town to town at times, and when I caught mention of your father, Mr. Grant and his land.. well, I thought that perhaps he could use a fella like myself."

Sarah’s eyes widened. Only since the day before! She could not imagine what it might be like to travel in such a manner.

"Oh, and Eamon would do just fine if ya prefer it, Ma'am."

Sarah nodded.

”Eamon it is …”

She agreed impulsively, not thinking that first name terms with a stranger might be remarked upon.

"Oh, Miss Grant. I believe your man should be out of the pub in no time.. he seemed to be keeping a keen eye on the door during his entire stay, aye he did."

She smiled feeling that she should reciprocate and invite him to call her “Sarah”, but knew that in this town where formality was valued and such an offer might be … misconstrued… Instead Sarah walked beside Eamon towards the carriage.

”Daddy only employs the best …”

She commented with a disarming smile allowing her eyes assess the sociable young man who stood before her.

"Lovely weather ya have in these parts, if ya don't mind me sayin' so, Ma'am."

Sarah considered the remark.

”I suppose it is … I’ve never left this town Mr …err … Eamon … so I have no other climate to compare it to … “

She eyed him letting curiosity finally to overcome her reticence.

”Where is it you come from? The weather is … less pleasant there I presume …?”

She prompted.

OOC: See my character bio in the OOC thread to get my character's background and where he's coming from.

IC:
"We'll be there in about 10 minutes, boss!" The poor educated man driving the luxury Stagecoach shouted down to Mal. Mal didn't even bother to respond, instead he turned to the older man sitting in the coach with him, his scout he had hired to scout the town months ago.

"Tell me about her. Any boyfriends or other courters I should have to mind?" Mal asked in his proper Ivy League English.

"Not that I could tell, sirrah, but let me tell you, accordin' to what I was told down at the gin mill, her father won't take a likin' to you trying to get a poke at his little one," the scout, said.

"Listen, chumly," Malcolm said, "I'm not some bum cowboy. I'm the first gentlemen that'll step foot in this two-bit town. I'm the kind of fellow that this William Grant wants to marry his daughter," he said, pulling a pair of black sleek leather gloves over his hands.

The scout rolled his eyes and looked out the window. "Whatever you saying, sirrah. You don't pay me for my opinion."

"Damn right I don't," Malcolm said, and looked out the opposite window has the stagecoach started to slow. He looked up and saw they were arriving in the town. Mal reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out his thick wallet. He pulled out a substantial amount of US treasury bills and handed them to the scout.

"Take your cut, and give the rest to the driver. We're done here," he commented. The coach came to a stop, and the driver hopped off the top seat and opened the door for Malcolm.

Malcolm stepped out and placed an old dusty cowboy hat on his head, which clashed with his proper waistcoat and trousers. "Sirrah! Welcome to Grantland!" the driver said. Malcolm turned to the short man and nodded. He squinted his eyes in the sun and stepped out towards the street.

He headed for the local tavern, and began his courtship of Sarah Grant.

Sarah’s eyes widened. Only since the day before! She could not imagine what it might be like to travel in such a manner.

Eamon's eyes flickered up to Sarah's face, at the brief widening of her eyes. Perhaps, it's not a normal way to travel in these parts, riding from town to town. He thought to himself. Though the wagon paths were far more easy to follow than his homeland terrain.

She smiled feeling that she should reciprocate and invite him to call her “Sarah”..

Eamon didn't realize it immediately, but Sarah had quite the infectious smile. He soon found himself returning the gesture without thought. The lass sure likes to shop.. he thought to himself, remarking mentally on the weight of the basket.

..but knew that in this town where formality was valued and such an offer might be … misconstrued… Instead Sarah walked beside Eamon towards the carriage.

”Daddy only employs the best …”
She commented with a disarming smile allowing her eyes assess the sociable young man who stood before her.

Eamon's breath caught just for an instant as for the first time, he felt Miss Grant's eyes truly on him. He then nodded to himself, "Aye, as it should be Miss Grant."

Slowly walking along side the pleasant young woman, "I've always felt that a man should be the best that he can be, in whatever he chooses to do." "Aye, and the quality of a man's craft reflects on his dedication.. not just to work.. but to life."

She eyed him letting curiosity finally to overcome her reticence.

”Where is it you come from? The weather is …. Less pleasant there I presume …?”

Eamon could almost see the question brewing on Miss Grant's tongue before it was actually spoken.

Eamon grinned like a young boy for the first time in a long time, "Well ya see, Miss Grant. It's not that the weather is unpleasant at all really.. but it is different. The weather on the Emerald Isle is a fickle thing indeed, more the moody cousin to your weather here. Truly, it can be shining one moment - and pouring another. Aye, but the mountains.."

Eamon develops of far-off look to his eyes for a moment.

"The mountains, and the valleys.. they are a sight to behold, Ma'am." "So fresh, and green.. the morning rains glistening on the expanse of fields...

A small stone underfoot brings Eamon back to the present. "Apologies, Ma'am. Just reminiscing on days past, aye."

"Ah, I'm from Ireland, Miss Grant." Eamon looks around, his vigilant gaze sweeping the area again. "I thought my accent would surely give me away, you've nothing against the Irish - I hope?" He asks softly, his eyes searching Sarah's.

Mal rounded one of the corners. After a quick chat with some of the local tap flies at the tavern, he was informed that there was some sort of boarding house in the town, exactly what he needed until could have a house built.

Suddenly, his eyes fell on a lovely young woman. The sunlight seemed to converge on her. He knew right away, that was Sarah Grant.

He started walking towards her with a purpose. First impressions meant everything, and he would have to dazzle her. At least she was beautiful. If he had to be married to some woman to get old Grant's business empire, at least it was to an attractive woman, opposed to some ugly country girl.

Caught up in his day dreams, he missed the calls of "Watch out!" and suddenly, before he knew it, slipped in a rather large pile of horse droppings, and landed face first in them.

An old farm hand walked over and patted him on the back. "Ha! I was yelling for you to watch out, city slicker! Shoulda kept your head outta the clouds," the old man said, laughing.

Mal got to his feet and started patting the waste off his waistcoat and face. "AGH! Why wasn't this cleaned up! You are not a very good horsemen. I will consider writing an opinion piece about you in the local newspaper! That'll ruin you!" he said, almost shouting.

The old farmhand started laughing, amused at the richer, younger man's now filthied state. Mal frowned, looked down, and kicked his foot into the horse manurer. He had hoped to splatter it on the old farmhand, instead, it splattered up, and onto the ankles of his trousers.

The old man with no front teeth started laughing even harder, and Mal frowned. He couldn't introduce himself to Sarah in this condition. He frowned and ducked behind the buildings, and continued his search for the boarding house away from the view of main street. His clothing trunk didn't arrive from the east coast until tomorrow, and he would have to somehow make due with these soiled clothes.

"Aye, as it should be Miss Grant … I've always felt that a man should be the best that he can be, in whatever he chooses to do."

The comment took Sarah by surprise. Her attention seemed to encourage him as he continued.

"Aye, and the quality of a man's craft reflects on his dedication.. not just to work.. but to life."

His words, his outlook on life and his accent drew her attention.
Perhaps it was just the fact that he was a stranger and therefore came from somewhere miles beyond her experience that appealed. It was so rare to meet anyone … new …

"Well ya see, Miss Grant. It's not that the weather is unpleasant at all really.. but it is different. The weather on the Emerald Isle is a fickle thing indeed, more the moody cousin to your weather here. Truly, it can be shining one moment - and pouring another. Aye, but the mountains.."

Sarah watched, mesmerised, as the awkwardness fell from him, his words poetic almost as he continued.

"The mountains, and the valleys.. they are a sight to behold, Ma'am..
So fresh, and green.. the morning rains glistening on the expanse of fields...”

For moments they remained silent, he lost in memories, she in imagination.
Freshness, green and rains … It was a world she could never imagine seeing herself.

"Apologies, Ma'am. Just reminiscing on days past, aye.
Ah, I'm from Ireland, Miss Grant.

Sarah had heard of the country, but could recall little detail from her past geography lessons, her governesses and later tutors preferring to instill her with a knowledge of her own country rather than filling her mind with ideas of lands beyond.

”I thought my accent would surely give me away, you've nothing against the Irish - I hope?"

If he was representative of his countrymen, Sarah mused she would be hard pressed to find anything to object to.
Recollecting herself suddenly, Sarah realised that Eamon was still waiting for an answer.
She shook her head emphatically.

”No… no ... of course not … “

All too aware of her earlier thoughts Sarah prayed she wasn’t blushing.

”I - I’ve … never met anyone who was Irish … ”

She explained quickly avoiding his gaze.

”In fact … I know very little about your country …”

She confessed.

”… though it sounds … wonderful … “

She gave him a shy smile wondering how she could have been wary of a man who seemed so ... warm ... and charming ...

A shout distracted her.
The sound seemed to be coming from further down the street.
Turning round to see the cause of the altercation, Sarah could only tell that there were two voices, one at least raised in anger.
Irresistibly drawn, Sarah took a step away from Eamon, but could still not make out just what was happening.
Curious, she managed but two more steps in the direction of the voices when she found herself caught firmly by the arm and whirled around.

”And where are you off to young lady?”

She laughed unrepentantly as she looked up into the eyes of the ranch hand who had driven her into town that morning.
Daddy often entrusted her to him knowing that he would guarantee her welfare.
If Sarah had doubted the genuine concern he had for her safety, she would have objected to being treated like an errant child.

”There was an argument and … “

She glanced down the street and gave a mock pout of disappointment as she realised whatever the argument had been about it had already been resolved.

” … and you thought you’d just go over and see? “

He responded not at all impressed by her actions.

Long familiarity made her respond with a sassy grin, knowing he was going to scold anyway so he might as well get it over with.

” … and suppose you’d gotten yourself into trouble?
Anything could have happened Sarah … ”

The concern in his voice was evident.
Though it was unlikely she’d have walked into a gun fight yet … she supposed he had a point … though she wasn’t going to admit that easily.
True she could be impulsive, but it wasn’t as if she deliberately went out of her way to look for trouble.
Sarah gave a heavy sigh and hastened to reassure him.

”I’d have been fine …”

For the first time she turned to indicate the young man who stood close by still holding her basket.

”Eamon would have protected me …”

Unfortunately, the introduction didn’t quite have the soothing response she had intended it to have …

Elizabeth smiled gratefully when Jarrod finally closed the ledger for the hotel's expenses. He was her general manager and though Beth owned the hotel and it's accompanying restaurant Jarrod was far better at the day to day running of it than she was. Stil she liked to know what was going on so once a week they say down and went over the ledgers so she could see where money was going out and coming and make any major decisions. She paid Jarrod almost obscenely for the work he did, especially when one took into account the fact that he actually lived at the hotel and didn't have to pay rent. Still for the amount of time and energy he put into the place she didn't begrudge him his pay.

"All right Miss Blake, be gone with you," the crotchety old man said with a wave of his hand. "There's naught else you need to worry over 'til next week."

"Thank you Jarrod," she said with an infectious grin that made the corners of the old mans lips twitch slightly. He knew that while she was curious and felt obligated to these business meetings that she tended to get bored so he kept them as short as possible.

Pushing her chair back she gave him a grin as she swept from the room in a rustle of skirts and petticoats. After being closeted away looking at line after line of numbers she needed a walk. Sauntering outside she drew in a deep breath and smiled once more as warm, clean air filled her lungs. Starting down the walkway she was startled when she heard a ranch hand calling for someone to watch out.

Looking around quickly she realized it wasn't herself being hollered at but a stranger...a stranger who promptly slid and fell into a horse pile. Covering her mouth she managed to hide her snickering as the man rose up and indignantly yelled something about writing a piece in the paper and ruining the ranch hand. She couldn't help but to laugh outright then. This wasn't the big city, you either learned to watch where you walked or you got shit on your shoes.

Watching him indignantly try to kick some of the manure at the ranch hand she found herself giggling once more when it splashed up onto his own pants. In a way she felt a bit bad for him but really it was his own fault for being so arrogant. Perhaps the experience would humble him a bit. If not he'd end up humiliating himself again....or he'd run back to the big city. Not everyone was cut out for living in the big, bad, wild, west.

Continuing down the walk she laughed once more when she noticed Sarah Grant trying to get a closer look at what was going on and the ranch hand (more like constant shadow thank to her father) that kept her from wandering off. She didn't recognize the new man with them and that piqued her interest. Beth made it a point to know who was in town and new people were always so interesting.

Curious about what was going on she decided to satisfy her curiosity and delay the inevitable lecture Sarah was going to get by waving and calling out to the younger woman.

"Sarah! Oh lords did you see that?!"

Tobias scowled briefly at the man Sarah had just motioned to before turning his eyes back on the daughter of his employer. But the expression melted away before turning back to the young woman who was doing her best to smile her way through his scolding. It wasn't this young guy's fault, Sarah was just being....Sarah.

"That I do" He responded, his voice a rolling, relaxed drawl despite the obvious concern in his words, "An' I ken see it all now. I tell yer daddy that you got yerself inta trouble...again...but I tell 'im, 'Don't worry Mr. Grant, she 'ad a total stranger with her the whole time!'"

Toby didn't mean to yell at Sarah, especially when she was making that face at him. But working for Mr. Grant meant alot to him, and he took his job very seriously. The young man had put everything into every job the old man had given him for the last 18 years and he had always been treated fairly and shown nothing but trust from Mr. Grant. Allowing a single hair on Sarah's head to be harmed would cause all of that to go up in a puff of smoke, and Toby was liable to find a rope around his neck followed by a long drop and a short stop.

He raised a hand towards the man she had mentioned as Eamon, "Now I don't mean no disrespect friend, an' I'm sure yer an alright sort...for an Irishman, but we all 'ave our duties"

Toby motioned towards the carriage. "Now Sarah y' know we'd best be gettin' back soon. Plenty o' work still needs doin'"

A voice from behind caught his attention and he turned to see Elisabeth Blake coming towards them. The unhappiness seemed to literally melt of his face as he saw the woman approaching. It was a fact that Miss Blake was a gossip and most generally considered to be the most effective way of spreading any kind of information but she was also intelligent, classy and truly a sight to behold.

Toby's hand rose to his hand, gripping the soft, worn by years of abuse from the sun and the rain between his thumb and forefinger and dipping it low as he smiled at her. "Afternoon Miss Blake"

"Yes, Will." Corrigan puffed on his cigar slowly and casually"When I was discussing your business with the Governor he did happen to mention something concerning Sarah"

"Stunning, I think, that the Governor has the time to concern himself with my family and run the state. I suppose there simply aren't enough problems for him to devote himself to" William's voice contained some traces of humour but there was also a coldness to it

"Nothing so sinister, Will. The Governor just noted that if you and he were able to get on friendlier terms that he would be very agreeable to a marriage between your Sarah and his younger boy." Corrigan said this with some enthusiasm, as if giving good news.

"Mmmmm" William said, clearly disinterested. He took a small sip of the brandy, savouring it's taste to the fullest.

"She couldn't do better, Will. She's already got money and a marriage to a politically connected family like that, well, your future grandson could be Governor, hell, President. I know you've said you have no interest in political connections but still, having the governor's ear when it came to business? What is that worth?"

William thought over what Corrigan had said. He knew that the subject of Sarah's marriage would be coming at some point but the topic nevertheless filled him with a great deal of discomfort. Sarah was still his darling daughter. William took another sip of his brandy before replying.

"John, let me tell you a story if I may" The refined Virginian tone of William's voice softened slightly, allowing some of the old accent he'd been raised with to creep back in.

"Good lord, if this is another story about growing up poor in Virginia" Corrigan said, his eyes rolling

"As you know, I grew up dirt poor in rural Virginia" William ignored his friend's protests "And anything I was going to get in life was going to be the result of my own hard work and ingenuity."

"I'm positively inspired" Corrigan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm

"And one day, I had the good fortune to meet Julia Harrison. The single most beautiful, refined and decent woman god ever happened to create." William's eyes warmed over at the mention of his wife, a hint of a smile appearing at his weathered face

"She was a fine woman, Will" Corrigan agreed with no trace of insincerity

"And Ms. Harrison had any number of suitors for her hand in marriage. Young men who could offer her an immediate life of exorbitant wealth or entry into the highest of society." William spoke with some amusement as he recalled his one time rivals. "And her father, prudent fellow that he was, was determined to see his daughter married to one of these fine Richmond gentlemen and most certainly not to the son of the local clergyman"

"But Ms. Harrison, stubborn girl that she was, had decided that she was in love with this foolish young man and that, despite her father's wishes, she would marry according to her heart's desire, rather than furthering any sort of ambitions her Father may have had"

"There's a moral hidden somewhere in this tale but I'm perplexed as to where and what it might be" Corrigan's voice again dripped with sarcasm

"So what would it say about this clergyman's son if, upon reaching some level of wealth and status himself, he arranged for his own daughter to be married to some wealthy, politically connected young man in order to further his own ambitions?"

William's eyes met Corrigan's as he finished the story, the look in William's eyes letting Corrigan know there was no room for debate on the subject. Corrigan released a sigh that told of exasperation.

"As you like, Will" Corrigan knew better than to attempt to argue the point "I just think it could have opened up a lot for you"

"John, do you have any idea what I'm actually worth now?"

"No clue. Two million?"

"Twelve. Twelve million dollars. Enough money to do whatever I should like for the rest of my life. Auctioning off my Daughter will bring me nothing I don't have and cost me a great deal of my self-opinion."

"Twelve million dollars." Corrigan exclaimed with some amazement

"And between your offers from the government and this young fellow from Cleveland telling me I have oil in those lands I purchased along the western ridge, I'm sure I could be worth another few million dollars if I so chose." William took a final swig of his brandy "No my friend, I'm old enough and rich enough and ornery enough so that everything I do from now until I pass will be done as I darn well please"

"Well, I tried" Corrigan stubbed out his cigar on a nearby ashtray.

William nodded. There was another truth, unmentioned, in his discussion of his daughter. William couldn't come to grips with the idea of his daughter leaving him to marry and start a family with any man, for whatever reason. William knew that Sarah was dangerously approaching an age where her lack of a husband would be seen as odd. He also knew that she had grown into a beautiful and intelligent young woman. There had been more than one occasion where William had seen to it that a ranch hand that looked at Sarah with what he deemed inappropriate respect had been fired and run out of town.

But, the truth was, William still saw Sarah as his little girl. That she would eventually marry was an unpleasant truth that he hoped he could leave unseen to for quite some time yet.

OOC: Hopefully I'm not overstepping myself here, I'm assuming with Ms. Blake out about, nobody would be at the desk.

IC:
Embarrassed and annoyed, Malcolm marched into the hotel he had been instructed to find. He stomped over to the front desk and rang the bell several times, but no one emerged to service him. He looked around and spotted a chair near the desk.

He sat down and looked himself over. His old cowboy hat, that once stood out against his proper waistcoat and tails, now seemed to blend in with the horrific-smelling brown stains. He unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons and looking at the ceiling and sighed. I guess this is the wild west, Mal thought to himself.

If he was representative of his countrymen, Sarah mused she would be hard pressed to find anything to object to.
Recollecting herself suddenly, Sarah realized that Eamon was still waiting for an answer.
She shook her head emphatically.

”No… no ... of course not … “

All too aware of her earlier thoughts Sarah prayed she wasn’t blushing.

Eamon's eyes rose to Miss Grant's youthful face, as she shook her head in reply to his inquiry. Immediately his blank face was replaced by a quizzed one, she looked.. flushed. At the instant he thought about asking her if she was feeling well, she spoke again, relieving his worries.

”I - I’ve … never met anyone who was Irish … ”

She explained quickly avoiding his gaze.

Eamon smiled, in what he hoped would be interpreted as a welcome, and warming smile.. hoping to ease her nerves.

”In fact … I know very little about your country …”

She confessed.

”… though it sounds … wonderful … “

"If you would ever like to hear more of it, aye, but there are rough times befalling it currently, though it's a land of such beauty.. I would gladly share anything of interest to you."

She gave him a shy smile wondering how she could have been wary of a man who seemed so ... warm ... and charming ...

Eamon was glad to see her smile again, certainly a man could grow fond of such a lifting expression, friends were few are far between for Eamon lately. Undoubtedly she had many of the lads tripping over her coat tails.

"Perhaps I will be able to visit your ranch, and discu.."

A shout distracted him.

Like a whip, Eamon's head turned to bear his gaze upon the scene down the street, while pinning Miss Grant in the forefront of his vision and capturing the commotion in the background.

From down the road again, "Watch out!"

He saw as a younger, well polished man slipped in the street and took a spill.

"Is cuma le fear na mbróg cá leagann sé a chos." Eamon states instinctively.

Irresistibly drawn, Sarah took a step away from Eamon, but could still not make out just what was happening.

Seeing the Grant-man approaching Miss Grant at a quick pace, Eamon takes a step toward her to close the gap, his eyes watching the new arrival warily.

Curious, she managed but two more steps in the direction of the voices when she found herself caught firmly by the arm and whirled around.

Another quick step put Eamon behind the other man, his mind and eyes racing for a hint of hostility but seemingly finding none. Eamon's body tensed and ready to spring in a moment.

Eamon clears his throat softly.

”And where are you off to young lady?”

Miss Grant laughed repentantly as she looked up into the eyes of the ranch hand who had driven her into town that morning.

”There was an argument and … “

She then glanced down the street and gave a mock pout of disappointment as she realized whatever the argument had been about it had already been resolved.

” … and you thought you’d just go over and see? “

He responded not at all impressed by her actions.

Her response, apparent to Eamon, was a sassy grin.

” … and suppose you’d gotten yourself into trouble?
Anything could have happened Sarah … ”

The concern in his voice was evident.

Sarah gave a heavy sigh and hastened to reassure him.

”I’d have been fine …”

For the first time she turned to indicate the young man who stood close by still holding her basket.

”Eamon would have protected me …

Tobias scowled briefly at the man Sarah had just motioned to before turning his eyes back on the daughter of his employer.

Eamon's unwavering gaze met the man's scowl, apparently he was some sort of parental figure, or bodyguard.

"Aye, Miss Grant - You sure are as safe as you ever could be, with me around, Ma'am."

He raised a hand towards the man she had mentioned as Eamon, "Now I don't mean no disrespect friend, an' I'm sure yer an alright sort...for an Irishman, but we all 'ave our duties"

"Oh, aye, we do." Eamon chuckles, relaxing. "And I'd have wondered your worth had you not been cautious of a strange fella with the young lady here."

Eamon offers the gentlemen a hand to shake.

"Though perhaps soon we won't be such strangers after all, if it's willed so."

With a smirk, as Eamon reflected on the young Miss Grant's curiousity and spirit, he tips his hat to her and smiles again.

"G'day, Miss Grant. I hope to speak with you again soon, as this has been a true pleasure."

Eamon then hands the basket to the other gentleman whom it seems without something to hold - might wring his own hands off. And starts his short walk to the local boarding house and pub. It has been a welcome place to stay since the night before.. owned by a woman by the name of Elizabeth.

Yet always he is on edge in such places.. haunted by memories.

NPC Jarrod, General Manager at the Hotel

Jarrod heard the stomping of boots across the freshly polished floor of the hotel and then the rapid ringing of the bell on the desk. The noise was insistent and annoying, especially with the young man making it over and over. Being the stubborn sort Jarrod decided to let the boy cool his heels a bit before helping him.

After all where else was he going to go unless he wanted one of the rooms above a saloon?

From the relative privacy of his office Jarrod could see the filth covering the young man and hissed sharply when he had the gall to settle into one of Miss Blakes fine sitting chairs. They'd never be able to get that smell out! The final decision was up to Miss Blake but if Jarrod had his way this yound man would be billed for that chair. He looked like he had money but Jarrod's first impression was that he'd been raised in a barn.

Finally deciding the young man had waited long enough Jarrod stepped from his office. He was taller than most men at 6'4 and had that lean, spare sort of frame that spoke to years of hard work and often going hungry. Weather beaten skin was covered in wrinkles and his dark brown eyes looked as if they could carry the wisdom of the ages in them. What truly spoke to his age however was his shockingly white hair. He'd lost none of it as he'd aged and more than one of his friends was jealous of it. He had a no nonsense attitude even toward guests and as he stepped behind the desk he eyed this newcomer slowly, his gaze saying that he clearly found something wanting in the young man.

"May I help you Sir?"

"Aye, Miss Grant - You sure are as safe as you ever could be, with me around, Ma'am."

Sarah gave Eamon a dazzling smile as he answered her and turned an “I-told-you-so look back at Toby, but he still seemed unconvinced.

"That I do … An' I ken see it all now. I tell yer daddy that you got yerself inta trouble...again...but I tell 'im, 'Don't worry Mr. Grant, she 'ad a total stranger with her the whole time!'"

Sarah gave an exasperated sigh and eyed Toby in mute appeal. She did not want him to be rude to her new found acquaintance.

"Now I don't mean no disrespect friend, an' I'm sure yer an alright sort...for an Irishman, but we all 'ave our duties"

Her appeal went unheeded, Toby had already identified Eamon as an Irishman and though his comment had not been overtly insulting, he held an implied offense.

"Oh, aye, we do. And I'd have wondered your worth had you not been cautious of a strange fella with the young lady here."

Sarah was amazed at the grace with which Eamon responded. She smiled as Toby had no option but to accept his hand as he continued.

"Though perhaps soon we won't be such strangers after all, if it's willed so."

Sarah was about to explain how she had met Eamon and that he was seeking work when Eamon turned to her;

"G'day, Miss Grant. I hope to speak with you again soon, as this has been a true pleasure."

Sarah, too aware of Toby’s all too observant gaze was forced to hide her disappointment.

”I hope so … “

Was the only response she allowed herself as Eamon handed her basket of purchases to Toby who promptly stowed her wares in the carriage.

"Now Sarah y' know we'd best be gettin' back soon. Plenty o' work still needs doin'"

Sarah bit back a response. For once she felt irritated by Toby’s insistence and her inability speak freely to Eamon as she might like.

"Sarah! Oh lords did you see that?!"

The voice of Elizabeth Blake rang out across the street as Sarah became aware of the lady herself advancing upon them.

”No .. but I’m sure you didn’t miss it … “

Sarah muttered uncharitably beneath her breath ensuring the words were barely audible.

"Afternoon Miss Blake"

Toby’s salutation added to Sarah’s annoyance.
Whilst he treated her like a brat, he was always most respectful to Elizabeth.
Sarah herself was not taken in. She could see Elizabeth eyeing Eamon who had turned to walk away.
No doubt she was curious as to who this newcomer was, but as the proprietor of the town’s hotel she would be privy to that information soon enough.

”Mr O’Farrell … !“

The formality in which she called him back caught Eamon’s attention and would she hoped perhaps put him on his guard with the woman who now stood beside her.

”Mr O’Farrell, might I introduce you to Ms Blake. Ms Blake owns the hotel you see just along the Main Street.
I am sure she would be more than willing to accommodate you … “

Her words were accompanied by a sweet smile and only Toby who knew her so well could guess at the slight edge to the comment.
She saw a flash of censure in his eyes, but continued.

”I’d love to stop and chatter … “

She glanced at Toby and continued in the same amicable vein.

”But Toby reminds me that he has much to do back at the ranch and we must return promptly.

Dutifully Toby made his goodbyes. Sarah allowed him to hand her into the carriage his manner at once respectful and accomodating, though she was aware of his eyes on her and that her facade had not fooled him in the least. Undeterred, Sarah gave a breezy wave to the couple who stood in the street. Perhaps her behaviour had not been ... the best ... but the end justified the means she justified to herself. She could use Toby’s insistence that there was much work to do on the ranch to give her a way of opening a conversation with her daddy which might allow her to suggest Eamon’s name as a prospective employee and on top of that, she had managed to make all her purchases and had met a very ... personable young man ...

Altogether a very good day’s work …

"May I help you Sir?". Mal's eyes shot up, and he looked up to the desk and saw a rather tall fellow standing behind the desk now. Mal rose to his feet and removed his hat.

"Yes, I'd like one of your rooms, straightaway," Mal said, "I'm a... writer. I'm thinking about writing a novel about life here in Grantland. I'll need my room for an indefinite amount of time, my good sir," Mal said.

He glanced around the hotel and then turned back to the man, "You better give me your best room. I don't suppose you have any suites here, do you?" the young man asked.

Sarah gave Eamon a dazzling smile as he answered her and turned an “I-told-you-so look back at Toby, but he still seemed unconvinced.

Eamon returned her smile with one of his own, perhaps a bit of his own curious, and mischievous spirit shining through his blue eyes.

"Sarah! Oh lords did you see that?!"

Eamon, stopped abruptly four paces into his walk toward the boarding house. His eyes rose from the path before him, meeting the form of Elizabeth Blake.. the owner.

”No .. but I’m sure you didn’t miss it … “ as soft as a whispering wind on a spring day, he heard Miss Grant mutter. Odd, he thought to himself..

”Mr O’Farrell … !“ Miss Grant's lovely voice rang out.

Eamon, turning on his heels - after gazing around his surroundings as Miss Blake walked passed him, met Miss Grant's look with a smile again. It seemed he was always in the mood to smile around the wonderful young woman.

A couple quick steps brought Eamon back into the company of the beautiful Miss Grant.

”Mr O’Farrell, might I introduce you to Ms Blake. Ms Blake owns the hotel you see just along the Main Street.
I am sure she would be more than willing to accommodate you … “

Her words were accompanied by a sweet smile.

"Oh? Aye, Miss Grant.. that would be most kind of her."

Eamon gives a friendly smile to Miss Blake.

He then leans in a bit toward Miss Grant, keeping a respectable and tasteful distance from her.. yet close enough his words are for her alone.

"Do you know if or when I might be able to speak with you again, or your father regarding possible employ?"

Being as close to Miss Grant for the first time that he has been, Eamon noticed a faint perfume of rose pedals, he thought. Quite lovely he thought.

The ride back towards the Grant Estate was quiet. The Irishman had seemed a decent enough sort and Toby had accepted the the man's extended hand with a genuine smile. There was no need to make an enemy or be inhospitable. But Toby didn't like the way the young man had been looking at Sarah. To give the Irishman credit though, Toby didn't like the way any young men looked at Sarah.

Sarah was seated next to Toby as the young man held the reigns for the pair of horses that drew them along the dusty path that led back to the sprawling ranch that belonged to Sarah's father. The young man kept cast glances over at Sarah, hoping that she would break the silence first with an excited story or a joke or a question about anything at all. He just didn't like the silence. And he hated the notion that Sarah might be upset with him. He knew how much she hated being treated like a child but she was just so damned insensible sometimes. She was young, pretty and rich and yet she fancied up to almost anyone who gave her a friendly smile.

He had been on the Grant estate since he was 10 and he had been one of Sarah's earliest playmates growing up. And ever since she was small Sarah had known that by batting her eye lashes, she could get Toby to cave in to almost any wish she had. And as much as the ranch-hand pretended to not like it, it always left his face in a brotherly smile. But Mr. Grant had given specific instructions and a specific time to have Sarah back on the estate, and when Mr. Grant said jump...


Finally the young cowboy spoke, "By the way, I reshoed yer horse. She was actin' a bit marish past few days but she always let you ride 'er". He hoped the peace offering would go through.

He brought the reins up and down in a sharp snap, urging the horses faster. They had to make up for a bit of lost time and Toby would be damned if he was going to be even remotely late for chow time.

Sarah’s only regret was that she hadn’t been able to reassure Eamon that she would talk to her father. All she had been able to do was smile encouragingly and leave him in the company of Elizabeth Blake.
Despite the fact that her morning had been successful Sarah gave a heavy sigh and stared distractedly at the familiar scenery as it went by.

"By the way, I reshoed yer horse.”

Toby’s voice drew Sarah’s attention.

”She was actin' a bit marish past few days but she always let you ride 'er".”

Sarah nodded considering. Misty had been somewhat unsettled lately, though she’d been well behaved when Sarah rode her.

”I thought there was something bothering her … but she’ll be alright now Toby…?”

Her voice was all care and concern for her horse as she responded;

”I’ll go check on her when we get back … “

Sarah exchanged a smile with Toby as he increased the pace of the horses. Her mouth quirked mischievously as she watched the horses powering along the track.

”Toby … any time you feel you can’t handle them … I don’t mind helping you out you know …”

She offered sweetly, her mouth taking up the habitual sassy grin as Toby turned towards her to retort at the implication that he was less than … skilled … with horses.
Sarah laughed out loud a sound of mirth rather than the dignified ladylike giggle she should perhaps be cultivating. In truth she had nothing but admiration for Toby’s handling of horses. He seemed almost intuitive with them, which he had proven by finding out just what was bothering her own mare. Perhaps because of that, Sarah knew that it was a remark he would know was a joke, but one he would rise to easily, even in mock indignation.

All too soon, they arrived at the ranch.
Sarah sighed regretful now at having to leave the easy teasing company of her childhood friend.
She allowed him to assist her down and glanced around as he picked up her basket and prepared to hand it to her.

”Miss Sarah … !“

The voice drew her attention immediately.

”Yes Theresa …?”

Sarah responded seeing the servant approach her not without some agitation.

”Your father said to have you come to the study … he … “

Sarah eyed her basket and exclaimed stopping the woman in mid sentence.

”My basket … !"

Her father must not see her pruchases. Her mind raced until she hit upon a solution.

" ... Tobyyy …?”

She was all coaxing and sweetness now as she turned her charms onto her long-suffering companion.

”You couldn’t take this basket, could you …?”

Her arms was hooked with his as she nestled closer in an effort to coax his compliance.

” … daddy can’t see it … I can’t tell you why .. but … it’s his birthday soon … “

She confided looking up at him from beneath long lashes and continued;

”… you wouldn’t want to spoil a surprise for him … would you Toby..?”

Wide eyed and appealing, once again she was the little girl who could get him to do anything for her.

” … you could just take it round the back … have it sent up to my room … no one need know … and I’d be sooo grateful ….. “

She kissed him on the cheek and laughed as he agreed.

”Where did you say? The study..?”

Her comment was thrown back at Theresa as she took off with unladylike exhuberance in the direction of the house.

”Yes Miss … but … “

The servant’s response went unheard as Sarah made her way past the parlour and headed for the room at the back of the house that was her father’s domain. Halting but a few seconds to catch her breath, she knocked on the door, but her father was expecting her, she did not think to wait to be told to enter.

”Daddy … I just got home … Theresa said you wanted to see me … I’ve had such … “

Her words halted in mid-flow as she suddenly became aware of a second man in the room.

”Ohhh… I … I’m sorry …”

Blushing, Sarah self-consciously smoothed her skirt and ran a hand through her windswept hair and tried to make amends.

”I’m sorry Daddy … I was so impatient to see you, I didn’t give Theresa chance to tell me we had a guest … “

Sarah was all genuine contrition as she turned to the guest who looked far from angry at her somewhat impromptu entrance.
She was relieved to realise that he was at least someone she knew.

”Mr Corrigan … how good to see you again …”

She extended her hand and smiled in genuine welcome.

”As you see I’ve just returned from town … “

She turned once more and spoke to her father.

”I’ll go change daddy … “

She offered, then turned back to their guest.

”… You are dining with us Mr Corrigan..?”

William had just been in the middle of reminiscing with Corrigan when Sarah had burst through the door. If he'd been a stricter parent he may have taken issue with her not knocking but William indulged Sarah in every way. His heart swelled when he saw his Daughter had returned safely from her trip into town. He knew it was foolish but he did worry when she left the Ranch, even for a relatively harmless excursion such as today's.

”Daddy … I just got home … Theresa said you wanted to see me … I’ve had such … “

Her words halted when she saw Corrigan sitting opposite him.

”I’m sorry Daddy … I was so impatient to see you, I didn’t give Theresa chance to tell me we had a guest … “

"No matter, dear." William smiled with pride "You remember Mr. Corrigan, don't you?"

”Mr Corrigan … how good to see you again …” She extended her hand and smiled in genuine welcome. ”As you see I’ve just returned from town … “

Corrigan returned the handshake

"A pleasure as always Ms. Grant. You're the spitting image of your mother" Corrigan responded in a familiar, warm manner

Sarah turned once more and spoke to her father.

”I’ll go change daddy … “

William nodded. Her clothing was fine for the Ranch or for Town but somewhat inappropriate for dinner. William knew he was being foolish by clinging so fervently to the rules of polite society but, well, that was all he knew.

”… You are dining with us Mr Corrigan..?”

"I am, my dear" Corrigan nodded "My business with your father took only a couple of minutes and now I will indulge myself in the life of the Wild West that I'm hearing such exciting things about."

William ignored Corrigan and continued speaking to his daughter.

"How was town, Sarah? Did you find all of the things you were looking for?"

Sarah's contentment with the town was a major source of consternation for William. Sarah didn't know it but many of the shops along the main street were owned by William and stocked according to her tastes. For a town of relative small size, there were boutiques and shops equal to any major city. It was a silly indulgence of William's but it was another way in which he justified not having her go east for schooling.

"Yes Daddy." Sarah replied dilligently

As Sarah spoke to him, William allowed his thoughts to wonder. Corrigan had been right, to a degree. Sarah resembled Julia superficially. The same colour hair and eyes, perhaps, but William knew that the way she spoke and much of her facial features were his own. Each time he was around Sarah, William could tell just how much an amalgam she was of both himself and Julia and how impressed he was at what an impressive young woman the two of them had created.

"Right, well, Sarah should go change" William smiled warmly "Perhaps I'll go pay Toby for his troubles and see to it that dinner is ready on time. Then we can all catch up"

Sarah was relieved that her father seemed to have forgiven her impromptu entrance perhaps mainly because Mr Corrigan had been a friend of her father’s for a long time. Sarah had smiled with happiness when he had commented upon her being “the spitting image” of her mother. Sarah had seen pictures of her and had some memories of the woman who had so tragically been taken from them, but at times she could not distinguish between the stories she remembered and stories she had been told.

"My business with your father took only a couple of minutes and now I will indulge myself in the life of the Wild West that I'm hearing such exciting things about."

Sarah chuckled at the light teasing in Mr Corrigan’s words.

”It’s not so wild, Mr Corrigan. Daddy would never allow that … “

She commented naively turning to her father as he spoke.

"How was town, Sarah? Did you find all of the things you were looking for?"

Sarah considered her purchases hopefully secluded safely in her room by now and responded demurely.

"Yes Daddy."

Though looking forward to Mr Corrigan’s company Sarah was secretly looking forward to emptying her basket and tucking her wares safely away within her room.

"Right, well, Sarah should go change"

Her father’s voice reminded her that her informal and somewhat unkempt appearance needed attending to.
Her compliant nod and smile was for both men.

"Perhaps I'll go pay Toby for his troubles and see to it that dinner is ready on time. Then we can all catch up"

Sarah nodded but made no comment.
She did hope Toby had not been lax in carrying out her request.
Yet even if the basket were within sight of her father, she was sure William Grant was not a man to go through his daughter’s property.

Taking her leave of both men Sarah made haste to her room knowing she had to make haste to wash, change and have her hair dressed in as little time as possible.
It was a habit of her father to dress and sit down to the evening meal. Whenever he was home he and Sarah would sit together enjoying the time to eat and chat. It was a time that was precious to Sarah, yet equally when they had guests, Sarah loved hearing about the ranch, the town or even about the world beyond those places that she knew.

As Sarah descended the staircase she thought again of Eamon and considered when might be the right time to speak to her father about seeing him. Probably not at dinner, she considered as she paused in the hall to check her appearance.
Dressed in a formal sky blue dress, her dark hair dressed high and falling in tendrils she was pleased with her appearance. Her fingers moved to reverently stroke the locket which she regularly wore around her neck. She did not have to open the golden casket to see the portraits within. She had done so so often that the images of her mother and father were etched on to her brain. Though William Grant had carefully retained his wife’s collection of jewelry, so far Sarah had only been given a few of those pieces, each one of which she treasured.

With a final glance, Sarah made her way towards the door.
This time when Sarah knocked she awaited a reply before entering …

Toby's hand rose to his hand, gripping the soft, worn by years of abuse from the sun and the rain between his thumb and forefinger and dipping it low as he smiled at her. "Afternoon Miss Blake"

Looking up at Toby an almost shy smile curved Elizabeth's lips. He was always so polite when she saw him in town and there was never any of the censure in his tone or words that she so often had to ignore from other townsfolk. It was refreshing but it also left her unsure of herself around him.

"Good afternoon Toby," she said softly before turning her gaze up to Sarah.

"Did you see that poor man, he fell right into that horse pile! It was aweful, then he threatened to write an article to the paper and have poor Teddy's reputation ruined. He even tried to kick some of the pile at Teddy and only succeeded in splashing it up on his trousers...so sad really," she said shaking her head in obvious lamentation of city clickers and their silliness.

”Mr O’Farrell, might I introduce you to Ms Blake. Ms Blake owns the hotel you see just along the Main Street.
I am sure she would be more than willing to accommodate you … “

Her words were accompanied by a sweet smile.

Elizabeth's entire body stilled at Sarah's words. They'd been well spoken but it was one of the more common double entendre's thrown at her and though her face remained utterly blank for a moment inside she was shoving down a sudden wellspring of anger and the urge to slap the words from the younger woman's lips. Still she said nothing and to Sarah and simply turned a welcoming smile to Mr. O'Farrell and held out her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. O'Farrell. If you're looking for a room to rent you won't find anyplace more comfortable than my hotel. If you're strapped for money at the moment just speak to the General Manager Jarrod and I'm sure an arrangement can be made to work for room and board until you find steadier work on one of the ranches."

The sun had already started to dip towards the horizon and the skies were beginning to burn a fiery pattern of red and orange, slowly being chased away by the dark of night. The ranch was becoming quiet, the ground slowly leeching off the heat of the midday sun, the air becoming cool and still. The contented sounds of cattle in the barns was the only sound, and even that had faded to the background.

A long, throaty metallic warble came from atop a recently constructed fence, not far from the main house. Cupping his hands around his face, Toby held the small silver harmonica to his lips and bent more of the twisting, raspy notes that cut through the quiet of the air. Toby had owned the instrument since he was a boy, a gift from a low dead older brother, and over the years he had become quite skilled with it. The plaintive, haunting riffs that emanated from the harmonica had been a fixture around the Grant Estate and a source of delight for many of Toby's fellow workers.

Sarah's bundle had been deposited to her bedroom, horses were done eating and been returned to their stables, brushed and tended to for the night. It was a good time of day to rest for a spell and enjoy a little relaxation. The tired hat fell foreword across Toby's face as he brought the harp back up to his lips again and blew out another riff.

Finally kicking himself off the fence, the cowboy brought the instrument up and kissed it as he always did before sliding it into his back pocket, the motions a ritual each time he put the thing away.

"Well," he smiled to himself, tipping his hat back up and setting his shoulders, "Time t' git payed" He chuckled lightly and headed towards the main house. Mr. Grant had never been anything but generous in his pay and Toby made enough to live very comfortably by a ranch hand's standards. But Mr. Grant had also instilled in the young man the value of a dollar and the satisfaction that came with an honest pay.

"Eh, Toby! Hey Toby boy!"

His green eyes swiveled around, still adjusting to the fading light. He caught sight of Port, one of the other hands. The man looked out of breath, as if he'd been running a long way. Although the sizable gut on the man made "a long way" a relative term. Licking the perspiration that had gathered on Port's bushy mustache, he panted, "I was doin the last check...an...an" he sucked in air rapidly.

"Whoa, Port," A concerned look flushed Toby's face as he watched his friend, "Slow down some an' jus tell me wha' happened?"

"Old Kentuck" Port finally said still looking panicked, "Mr. Grant's horse is missin' from the stables. I can't find 'er anywhere!"

A moment of quiet passed between the two before Toby finally spoke again, "Aww shit"