Aurora Borealis

Anna DeSilva

Anna could hold her own when it came to hauling things, but it was a relief nonetheless when the tall drink of water grabbed the sack of flour and hefted it over his shoulder like it was a mere feather bed. Most men in Carmack worked claims and both she and Lou had been hard put to find one interested in doing odd jobs around the Aurora. Maybe this was their lucky day.

"Mille grazie. Avanti." She cocked her head in the direction of the kitchen, her mind going a mile a minute. "Can you build things, Tad? And fix them when they break?"

"Ma'am. The things I build don't need no fixin'." He replied matter-of-factly and Anna grinned in response, following the young man through the door. Yes, this definitely was their lucky day.

"The boss man's name is Lou, Tad. Miss Lou. And I think you just got yourself a job."
 
Ringo

It was late when I got into town and I was wet as well as powerfull hungry so I moseyed on down to the Monroe house where I was told I could get a room and some mighty good food . This town was a far cry from Dodge I thought and remembering back began to get a little homesick , but then what was there that I wanted to go back to more than likely it was a ghost town by now and besides it wern't the same when my wife suddenly up and left with no apparant reason at all well I guess I had to admit I was a a bit of a roustabout to say the least leaving her for months at a time nad then suddenly appearing out of no where. We had fun when we was together which wasn't long enough I guess cause she took up with a fella never did figure out who he was only she called him sugar and the townsfolk seemed to get a kick out of it when ever sugar was mentioned last I heard they ran off to Florida together.

Well I'm ready to start a new life here and I'm gonna change my ways by golly no more chasing skirts if I find the kind of gal that pleases me and if I can please her I'll not go running off like I did the last time.

Right now I was powerfull hungry like I said and didn't have no money only this little sack of gold nuggets I'd panned out of the river on my clain up north of town. hope they'll do for credit until i can get the assayer to look a them and then to the bank to exchange them for cash.

It sure felt good to come in out of the cold as I stepped into the warmth of the Monroe house and smelled all the good smells of food cooking from the kitchen I asked a waitress if I could speak to the owner Miss Hanna, Telling her I'm needing a room and would she bring me some food in the meantime. I was starving and I loved good food.
 
Veronique Lovejoy

Veronique wonders to herself, "Will this stage never reach another town?" She watches the other passengers through her eyelashes as to hide her study of them. She's been bounced around for weeks this time. Minor stops at trading posts just aren't enough.
 
Hanna Monroe

It sounded like the weather outside was getting worse and worse. But inside it was warm and comforting. I was serving up big bowls of chicken and dumplings. Just right to warm your insides up. I was teasing the men about cleaning their bowls, before I would let them have some cobbler.

Hearing a noise the door open, I turned to see a small dark woman step in, poor thing was shivering and soaked to the bone. Rushing to help her, I suspected it was Senorita Mercado.

"Come in! Welcome to Monroe House." I told her, I led her into the sitting room, where I had a fire burning. "Please sit close here and dry off." I encouraged her.

When I asked if she was Senorita Mercado, she said she was. I asked if she wanted to go up to her room, or if she wanted me to serve her here by the fire and let her warm up first. She told me it would be wonderful if she could just eat there, while she warmed up. I hurried to the kitchen and made up a tray for her. Giving her a smaller portion than I gave the men. Adding some cobbler and a pot of tea instead of coffee.

I had just settled a small table in front of her and served her when the door opened again. A big man stepped in and seeing Meg, my serving girl, asked to see me and for something to eat. I came out of the sitting room

"Welcome to Monroe House, Sir, why don't you come with me to our dining room and tell me what I can do for you. I am Hanna Monroe. Happy to meet you." I said, before directing Meg to go to the kitchen and bring some food
 
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Rafe looked the girl over again as his hand slipped around Tamara's wasp thin waist.

"Irish girls when broken in are the best in the world." He mused aloud.
"Once free of that Popish nonesense, they can become real hellcats."

"That one will never be a hellcat Rafe...an alleycat maybe."
The older girl was doing little to hide her dislike...her envy of the new recruit.

He approached the new girl in two long strides, bent low and kissed her. Kissed her hard and full on the lips.
Calley had never been kissed that way. Never been kissed by a man at all. Her body tensed as Rafes strong arm went around her and she found herself melting....melting, somehow his tongue was alive inside her mouth, her legs felt weak, her head was spinning.

Rafe lifted the girl off the floor and sat her down in his own chair.
Her face was flushed with arousal, confusion, outrage, surprise....


"The girl responds...She'll be a natural. Just needs training....needs some expossure to life, eh Miss Vicky?"
He turned to find Tamara livid. He never kissed her like that anymore.

"Oh now don't be mad you pretty baggage, you'll get the best part."

He spoke over his shoulder to Calley,
"Now little coleen we're going to show you how it's done..."
He walked over to the fuming woman and took her cheeks in his hands...
"Strip Tamara...take it all off, everything. I'm going to play you like
a violin while Miss Innocence watches and learns."
 
Ringo

As I saw a young woman come out of the sitting room and head in my direction I wondered "Is this the owner of the Monroe or has she sent someone in her place."

She seemed too young to be able to run a business such as this and I had heard she was a widow. Then I realized that sometimes lives can be snuffed out at an early age and those left behind either pull up their bootstraps and move on, or give up If this was indeed Hanna Monroe I knew that she was not one who easily gave up. I would feel priviledged to be in her company and am anxious to meet her.

My wishes were granted when she showed me to the dining room and invited me to sit with her introducing herself as "Hanna Monroe.

One of the first things I noticed was her big blue eyes, full of honest warmth, reflecting some of the pain and suffering she had been through but over all a light of confidence and self purpose revealed itself when she looked directly at me when she spoke and when I returned her greeting.

"My pleasure, mam. My name is Ringo and I have a favor to ask hoping you will grant it even though you don't know me from Adam."

I pulled out my bag of gold nuggets and shook a dozen or so out onto my other hand.

"I have no money and no idea what these are worth but would you accept them in payment for a meal and a room for tonight. Tomorrow when the bank is open I will exchange them for cash which I will then pay you for your kind service plus a bonus for your inconvenience."

I smile to show her my sincerity knowing that there are those who would take advantage of her good nature.
 
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Tad Meriwether greets Anna

“Oh, thank ye ma’am,” Tad replied, grinning ear to ear. Still holding the huge bag of flour on his shoulder, with little effort.

“Aint Lou, I mean, Miss Lou, kinda funny name fer a lady?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “She aint one of them there painted ladies is she? Not that I’d mind, ya understand, I’m just grateful to git a job.”

Tad’s stomach was starting to growl. He hadn’t eaten since he’d killed the rabbit two days ago. He looked around, hoping to spy something to eat. He would have asked permission first and done some work for his food, but he was getting very hungry.

“Ma’am,” he said, his eyebrows coming together. “Where you want this here bag a flour? It’s startin to git a might heavy."

“Say,” He asked seriously, “you aint fixin to make biscuits or flapjacks with this here flour are ya. I’m gittin a powerful holler spot here in my belly.”

He leaned his rifle against the table and gently laid the huge bag of flour down as if it were baby.

“Ma’am,” he said apologetically, whipping his hat off his head again. “I’m sorry, but I didn't git yer name.”

“Anna,” she answered, in her sweet Italian accent, smiling up at him. “My name is Anna.”

“Miss Anna, it sure is a pleasure to meet ya,” he grinned down at her, extending his big hand to take hers. “Ya got some firewood or som’um I could carry in fer ya?”

Tad really wasn’t interested in carrying in any firewood at the moment. He found he like this pretty young woman and would rather have stood there holding her hand. She had beautiful dark eyes that he found himself lost in. He was also captivated by her accent, it made him feel even dumber than he was, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
 
John Thomson

They call it luck. You win 15 out of 20 hands and they still call it luck. Twelve players sit down, go broke, and get up…and they still call it luck. No matter how much money he won, John still winced every time someone said that word. He smoothed the midnight black of his suit coat and dragged his thumb across the velvet surface of his tongue. With a grin, an arrogant, know it all grin…he smoothed his eyebrow and threw his chips on the table. “Call.”

He watched the full house fall from the man’s hands, feigning surprise. He had seen it coming, watched it. But he had baited him into a five thousand dollar pot, and would humor him for the few seconds that remained before he snatched it all away. Poker was a complicated game, with a hundred different rules. The most important of which told the most seasoned players never to show when they had spotted someone’s ‘tell’.

He definitely wasn’t talking.

The cards did it for him, four of a kind. Swearing, an overturned chair…it was like a dance. John had gotten inside his head, taken a bite, and started chewing away what rationality his competition had once had. He taunted, attacked his ego, his pride, and his wallet all at the same time. That was the beauty of it. John sat and humiliated this guy while he stole his money, and that was exactly why he couldn’t stop losing. He couldn’t leave the table. Each hand was an “I gotta win!” or “his luck will run out!”…

But luck was never a factor. Luck was a four letter word for God. Something that people prayed for and to, worshipped, and swore to. It didn’t have substance, it wasn’t guiding destiny. It wasn’t sitting next to John, stroking his cock and blowing kisses on his cards. The closest thing to luck was talent, and John was using his skill like a balpine hammer. Each time the man reached for a card, John hit him hard in the testicles and waited for him to confess what he had.

Not really, he just caught the guy’s tell. The games were over before they began.

“You lousy, cheating bastard! That’s 15 hands!” The irate man screamed, slamming his fist on the table. His eyes were angry and cold, frozen with the bitter chill of losing.

“I beg your pardon? Did you call me a cheat, Sir? All these people will tell you otherwise.” Spotting a tell wasn’t cheating, it was outplaying. Sore losers were never looked at very fondly, but then again…this man was armed.

There was a correlation between card playing and gun fighting, that much could be certain. John had found the man’s tell, and didn’t move as the man drew up his pistol and leveled the barrel at his forehead. A woman screamed, and people backed away. John kept smiling, that unbearably arrogant smile that tugged his lips high.

“Admit you are a cheat, Cowboy!”

“I will do no such thing; admit you are a sore loser, Sir.”
The threat was turned into an ultimatum, made audible by the metallic click of a hammer being drawn back. The sound of the cylinder rotating was the call; John had sucked him into this trap all night. The man was broke, frustrated, and irrational. He was putting it all on the table, win or go home…

In a coffin.

The sound of a shot rang out, and a few of the patrons in the Aurora jumped to the floor, putting their arms above their heads and kissing the dusty floorboards. Most just startled badly, staring in disbelief as John’s competitor fell backwards.

The thick, gritty smell of cordite filled the room as a column of grey smoke rose from John’s holstered Peace Maker. The Colt continued to exhale, thin tendrils of gray gun smoke twisting and dancing with thicker, heavier black from the burnt leather at the bottom of his holster. John motioned for the saloon’s dealer to rack his chips and cash them, and pushed himself from the table. His eyes hung, and a frown sagged his handsome features.

“Cash me out, and give me a drink. Now I have to wait and talk to the law… I was hoping to head home.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lou heading towards the commotion.

Oh Christ, now here comes the shit…
 
The Lady that's known as... Lou

She greeted Sgt. Provon as he came in the door, but it was the new Superintendent that she was most interested in. Gunderson was his name and if anyone knew anything they weren't talking. She'd just have to do her own legwork on this one. Lou chuckled, knowing Frenchie would do a far better job. She'd talk with her later.

Lou kept her eye on every one and every thing as she wandered about the common room of the Aurora. Not much escaped her notice. It looked like the poker game was getting kind of heated, but she wasn't really worried. The regulars gave up their pieces when they sat down and got them back when they cashed out. Lou liked to think they ran a fair and safe game at the Aurora.

Odds were always on the house and here the 'house' was named Ernie Jaeger. One of the best, it was rumored that he'd learned his trade among the likes of Luke Short and Doc and that he'd been dealing the night Bill Hickok was shot in Deadwood. He was sharp, both a fair and honest dealer. He wouldn't be working for her otherwise.

The newcomer was a typical pro. She'd watched him while he played. He bet his 'system' without variation, and his face stayed the same whether he won or lost. He'd make a good second. Business was good and she'd been thinking of setting up a regular game of Monte. Sourdoughs seemed to like that game and it was more fitting with their coin purse than poker. Maybe this gamblin' man could take over a high stakes game. It was a thought worth holding onto. She smiled again.

And then she heard it. They were slinging words and pretty soon they'd be slinging something else. Lou was halfway across the room when the gamblin' man put his accuser out of his misery. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened in her place, but she swore on all that she held holy it would be the last.

Her eyes blazed as she bore down on the hapless man. "Get this mess cleaned up, Ernie, will ya? You come with me."

Used to having people listen when she spoke, Lou turned and headed for her office without looking back. She had a way of keeping peace herself and about six of them were trained on this new object of her attention. Just a little encouragement so he didn't decide to take himself elsewhere.
 
Hanna Monroe

The man introduced himself as Ringo. Meg brought the food out on a tray, and I served him myself. Before he began eating he pulled a heavy bag out and dumped a handful of gold nuggets into his hands.

"I have no money and no idea what these are worth but would you accept them in payment for a meal and a room for tonight. Tomorrow when the bank is open I will exchange them for cash which I will then pay you for your kind service plus a bonus for your inconvenience." he said.

Without thinking I closed my hand around his, almost absently noticing how small my hand looked against his.

" Sir, just one of those would be more than enough for a whole week. Please just accept my hospitality tonight, and tomorrow after you go to the bank you can settle up with me I think you will find yourself wealthy enough to do anything you want after that."

I poured him a cup of coffee and told him we had cobbler for tonight also. Then after refilling the other guests cups, I excused myself to go make sure his room was prepared properly. I just stopped to check on Senorita Mercado, then started up the stairs to check on the rooms
 
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John Thomson

The smooth burn of alcohol warmed his insides, another shot as Lou scolded him firmly. He wasn’t at all intimidated, or upset at what had transpired, just a bit irked that now his night had been delayed. The guns trained on him were a unnecessary precaution, because John was quite aware what had happened. He was confident he wasn’t at fault, and confidant there was little the fiery woman could say to convince him otherwise.

His steps were fluid and slow, trailing behind Lou as she slipped into her office.

He closed the door quietly behind him, before pulling his hat from his head and clutching it under his powerful arm. His thin lips remained motionless, feeling no need to defend himself to the events. He heard the music start up, the same upbeat, Foster’esque nonsense that was so prevalent to the times.

The smell of smoldering leather was quickly filling Lou’s office with a strong, almost musky heat. He could tell she had a speech prepared, and beat her to the punch. Two hundred dollars were dropped on her desk, and he let his eyes grow cold. “For the mess.”

John studied her intently, his cobalt hues narrow and critical. It was a silent dare for her to scold him, scold the strong, proud cowboy standing infront of her desk. His blond hair was matted, and idly he ran a hand through it to shake it out.
 
Calley Fitzgerald

Salee took Calley’s breath away with his long, deep kiss.

She pulled away feeling something she had only allowed herself to feel at night, in bed, in the dark. A stirring and yearning that she found, guiltily, she could slake with her own fingers.

Unceremoniously dumped on Mr Salee’s high backed chair, she tried to catch her breath and compose herself once more.

She was reminded of Tamara, standing like a hostile statue by the heavily curtained window when the latter gave a derisive snort.

As Calley sat in a haze, still tasting that hungry kiss, feeling aroused and uncertain, she heard Mr Salee’s deep voice telling her to “pay attention now!”

Looking up she saw he was holding the fuming Tamara’s face in his hand then he asked her – no, commanded her, to undress!

Even though it obviously infuriated her, Tamara obeyed.
She gracefully removed each item, her eyes never leaving the man’s face.

Calley found the expression onSalee’s face inexplicably arousing and she began to imagine herself doing the same exotic dance for him.

Tamara’s under-pinning was as beautiful as her brocade dress and Calley, mindful of her plain linen bloomers and camisole, found herself envious for the first time.

It wasn’t until she saw Tamara’s naked body that she started to feel true jealousy. Her figure was such as Calley had only glimpsed in the paintings as she had entered this room. It was full, firm and ripe.

Unconsciously she folded her arms across her own, still developing, bosom.

Once she was completely naked Tamara approached Mr Salee and Calley saw her smile as if she had forgotten all about the audience of one sitting there – enrapt.
 
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Señorita Lorena Mercado

She was so exhausted suddenly, it must have been the days' journeys as well as the rain that brought her down.

She hadn't said much, so fatigued, her manners didn't seem to ever surface.

The food was delicious, far different than what she was accustomed to, but as of the last few years, meals of home weren't available...let alone served.

She had noticed a tall man, a few inches over 6' she was sure of it, lanky, with hauntingly dark blue eyes enter the Monroe House.

Her mind had been wheeling between Spanish and English all day; she thought she had caught something of a spell and would fall right out of her chair if she tried to translate another word.

...but she listened, and when she heard the word gold she knew she had to snap out of it.

"Con permiso, Señor, she nodded towards Señorita Monroe also...el banco will be open...manana...'scuse me, the bank will be open tommorrow." She was tired and her accent was pulling in thick.

"There will be no problem in exchanging for cash or I store your gold." She smiled pleasantly.

She stood, placing her plates down, trying to smooth her soaked skirts, her hair now a curly whirlwind, and her cheeks were flushed.

The man loomed over her almost a foot, she looked up and offered her hand to the man, "I am Señorita Mercado, and I own the bank."

She looked to Señora Monroe, "Muchas gracias para la comida..." She gasped as if she committed a crime, "pardon my horrible manners." She tried to shake the cobwebs from her head, "I am so tired I can not speak English for the life of me. Thank you for the food, was delicious. If you wouldn't mind I would like to go to my room, perhaps bathe...you will of course be given money to cover everything, in advance if you like."
 
Hanna Monroe

I am so tired I can not speak English for the life of me. Thank you for the food, was delicious. If you wouldn't mind I would like to go to my room, perhaps bathe...you will of course be given money to cover everything, in advance if you like." Senortia Mercado said. She was so tired her words were beginning to slur.

"Oh! Of course, you go right on up, the first door on the right The key is on the dresser. I will send Meg right up with hot water and we will take care of your bill in the morning." Suddenly a memory of Spence and I laughing and chasing each other around our room jumped into my mind without warning. I couldn't stop the sudden flushing of my face as I told her softly, " I hope you enjoy it, it is the room I shared with my late husband."

I turned and quickly went in the kitchen and sent Meg up with hot water for the senorita. I took a moment to gather my emotions back in control. Then I took a generous serving of peach cobbler out to Ringo.

"I surely hope you enjoy staying here." I told him. I couldn't help notice how handsome he was
 
James Masterton

A Fatal Bite

John Duffy of Lockport Dies As The Result of One of His Fingers Being Bitten


John Duffy of Lockport died yesterday morning at the General Hospital in Buffalo of blood poisoning. Coroner Tucker took charge of the case, and notified the Coroner of Lockport. Duffy's death was brought about by a bite on the finger, inflicted by a man with whom he was fighting. Duffy thought the wound not serious, and only bandaged it. He went to see no physician. Three weeks ago it got worse, and he went to the General Hospital for treatment. His condition was such that no help could be given him...


In the office of the Aurora Borealis, James Masterton lies on the lounger with his feet up as he reads his newspaper. Like him, the paper is an immigrant from his homeland, England. Although almost a year old, it is still good to read news from home.

Home!

How long will it take, he wonders, before he starts to regard this place as his new home?

He had been living at the Aurora for the past nine months, after being rescued, literally, off the streets by Louise (Lou). She had nursed him back to health and consequentially they had fallen in love. Since then, he has been trying to settle into his new life and not finding it easy. He finds the local populace too uncouth and his beloved's behaviour often shocks him. One of which is her constant insistance that they share a bed. Outside wedlock! So far, he has managed to keep his virtual intact. Dispairingly, he wonders if he will ever really fit in.

Reading an imported newspaper, in this case The Evening News, allows him to forget his immediate concerns for a time.

He is returned to reality with a jolt as the door slams open...
 
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His back complained once more, lying against the jutting rocks that confined the side of the mountain. Certain points tried to reach right out from the rock and imbed themselves straight into his spine. He grunted, rolling over to his side, as a new set of discomfort set it. It didn't bother him as much, so he stayed there a few minutes more.
His apple, delicious and maiden. Untouched fresh fruit, something rare to find in the Yukon. Almost a delicacy. He bit into it with vigor, like a virgin ripping apart the dress that stood between him and the greatest experience of his life.
Flavor exploded into his mouth, as he dribbled a little. Snaking his tongue out to get the falling juices, he turned towards his other side, hoping the abuse on his body wouldn't be as severe.
It wasn't.
He had found the one comfortable spot in all of the mountain range.
"Aye, that does it."
A man spoke up, right behind Colin. He stood still, stopping in mid-chew as he listened with intent on what happened just outside of eyeshot.
Ruffling of tools. Metal sliding against metal, and something being loaded. Gold? Perhaps. He didn't dare move to take a look, but he listened just as hard as he could.
A big sniff into the air.
He could almost smell the nuggets. All that came to him was a whiff of fresh apple though.
"That'd be enough for today. Back tomorrow. We'll get the goods then. Just a few more feet, she'll be ours."
The sound of movement. A horse... no, no, it was a burrow, neighed when a whip lashed out against the air. They whole enterage moved down a narrow slope back into town.
It was another minute before Colin began chewing once more, popping his head out from the comfortable side of the mountain, and watching as an elderly man took a small empty wagon back to town.
He uncocked his gun, sighing as he did so. Not as easy as just killing the man this time. He would have to dig for his night's wealth.
Growling, he reached down to grab a small burlap sack, taking out a few necessary tools. An axe, a shovel, and a few sticks of dynamite.
"Finders keepers."
He took another bite of the apple, revelling in its juicy delight before he jumped the claim.
 
The Entrepreneur Adventurer - René Delacroix

ooc: Sorry for not posting recently. The last week or so has been one of those kinda weeks..

IC: *Things went on about him, as things tended to do. Rene, however, was oblivious to the goings on in the bar, He was too worried about the lateness of his stake-manager. He tamped the pipe against the fireplace and dusted out the remaining tobacco ashes when he heard a door open with particular briskness, whirling about in his chair and nearly upsetting a half empty glass of wine, he Spotted a slightly grimy young fellow, with the look like every able bodied man about here who was wondering if he'd ever strike it rich. The look on his face told René all he needed to know. Striding across the room, and nearly colliding with a waitress..after a swift apology in his native French, he walked up to the man, who had a grin that could have beaten the grand canyon for width on his face*

Is this what I think It's about?

*He asked in the mans tounge..american. It was sometimes a trifle odd being bilingual...the man pulled out a small leather sack and produced a marvel from it...*

*It was about half the size of his fist...and it gleamed in the candle and firelight, a muffled gasp rippled through the entire bar area, as René took the nugget from his hand and held it up to the firelight, examining it minutely...it was Gold alright. Real Gold. His legendary luck had struck again. He noticed they were getting a great deal of attention, but he did not care at the moment, He clapped the man on the shoulder*

It is the real thing, my fine Bernard.

*The man let out a cowboy roar and slapped his thigh, cheering and taking a waitress on a very short, impromptu dance. René had to smile. He reached out and shook the mans hand*

There is more, I assume?

*The man nodded hurridly, he made a swift gesture*

Then get to it. And make certain you are not followed. Take this..

*He removed a small stack of paper, and handed it to the man...scribbled on them were I.O.U notices by some of the local gambelers.*

Tell them that I will consider every last cent of these paid off, provided they protect the investment.

*Here, in this place, one could never be too sure of things. The man tucked away the papers, and ran off, cheering as he left the bar. Placing the nugget on the table in front of him, René fell into his seat with a small, he signaled to a waitress, and as soon as he caught one's attention, he smiled*

Please, A bottle of your finest french Red. And, if you will, a Round for the bar.

*after all, it might make some folks here less inclined to try and rob him, He dropped a little pouch of tinier gold nuggets - ample money for the order*

Keep whatever is left, and use it in good health.

*As the waitress blushed, stammered her thanks and hurried off to convey the order to the barmistress, René allowed him to sit back into the seat with a slow smile...Even with the lack of the adventurous Chase...he could appriciate the victory he had scored today, taking a deep breath he smiled at the still gleaming nugget, which was attracting whispers and lots of attention. Let them stare! He soaked it up with a pride, knowing that intelligence, a smart claiming of stakes, and the intelligence to hire the right sort of people had won the day. It wasnt mere luck, as his many detractors would scoff. It was the application of his hard earned knowledge of metals, and how they deposited and where. Brushing back his rakish hair he waited for his wine with an air of Quiet triumph. He'd send the letter tomorrow, after inspecting the stake, back to the Investors in New York. They would be immensely happy to know of these matters*

ooc Im going to be able to keep up more, but please be somewhat patient if I do not instantly reply...Until the second week of april, my schedual is somewhat hellish. I'll explain later. ^^;;;
 
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Victoria

I let the elegant fabric slip from my full frame and approach Rafe. A hand reaches out and strokes her along her chin and then my attention turns back to Rafe's touch along my back

'I ws hoping you'd be first one today to play with me. And to teach a new one add to my pleasure."

I let my arms slip around him draping myself like a cat on his body.

"Now watch and learn. I might even let you join us if you listen well Calley."
 

Salee smiled and stubbed his cheroot out in the elephant foot ash tray that took up a good part of his desk top.
"Pretty isn't she?"

Calley could only nod in agreement. Tamara had a figure that any woman would die for. Her handsome face once had been quite beautiful but the cares of a hard and cruel life had aged her beyond her years. For fact be known she was not much older than the Irish girl.

Rafe took astep towards her and Tamara wrapped her arms around him and pulled her naked body close to his.
Her full breasts were crushed between them and he was getting hard fast. Having a virgin watching them was going to be a huge turn on. Rafe had become a bit jaded, understandable in his line of work.

"Okay Miss Vicky, let's give the girl a show shall we?"
Salee stepped away from the nude houri and quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them in a pile at Calley's feet.

The girl was torn between shutting her eyes tight or watching everything that was happening. The latter won.
Her innocent eyes were big as saucers as Rafe approached her
with a nine inch erection waving like a cobra in front of him.

"I don't think she's ever seen one Rafe."
Tamara laughed, and reaching down grabbed the thick shaft in her hand and began to stroke.

"You know Calley, I think it's a bit unfair..."
He paused as Tamara sank to her knees in front of him and began licking his cock like hard candy.
"Yessssss....I think it's unfair girl that Miss Vicky and I are in the buff and you are still confined in those stiffling garments."

The coleen tore her eyes from Salee's erection and Tamara's mouth and looked up into his twinkling eyes.

"Strip girl. If you want to work for me, you'll do it and do it now!"
 
Senorita Lorena Mercado

She simply nodded and made her way up the stairs.

She had to steady herself on the handcarved rail, so much love went into this house.

She found the first door on the right before she collapsed. She hadn't realized she was so exhausted.

Placing her beaded bag upon the dresser beside the key, she unbuttoned it's silk top. She pulled out the hand gun.

Taking it with her she looked to the bed, beside it was another beautifully hand carved night stand with a tiny drawer.

She walked over, sleepily yawning, covering her mouth quickly, then realizing that no one was around to see.

She opened the drawer, a bible lay there, and she set her piece next to the Good Book.

It was just plain estupido to own a bank with out some sort of protection, this was just one of two she owned.

Her luggage was already up there, as was the bath tub full of steaming water, fragrant with Chamomile.

She slipped out of her expensive finely woven clothing and let them fall to the floor, and slipped straight into the water, letting it soak into her skin.

She couldn't help but utter a moan and a sigh...this was just the beginning of an amazing life.
 
Calley

It slowly dawned on Calley that Mr Sale was demanding that she disrobe too.

For a moment she sat frozen as Tamara continued to pleasure Mr Sale, making loud slurping noises and raising her almond shaped eyes to watch his face.

But Mr Sale was staring at Calley who blushed and started to slowly unbutton her bodice with trembling fingers.

She felt a delicious mixture of shame and excitement, much as she did at night when her fingers, slick with her own juices, made her body shudder and arc with forbidden pleasure.

She knew, with out exploration, that she was more than a little aroused.

She felt a pang of shameful excitement as she recalled the only other male organ she had seen. Back in Ballymorag, she and a boy from the village had gone to pick blackberries to supplement the meagre diet.

He had told her that he had something to shown her and she, curious as ever, had turned from the brambles and asked him to show her.

Fascinated, she had watched him unbuckle his belt and draw out his erect penis. He, like Calley, was only 14, but, to her, it seemed huge.

“Touch it if you like.” He had said nonchalantly and she had, grasping it like a pump handle then quickly snatching her hand away from the hot, soft/hard thing.

She ran, then, with his laughter ringing in her burning ears.

Standing away from the chair, she turned her back to the pair as her bodice fell open. She fumbled with the fastenings at her waist and her dress, full skirts, petticoats and all, fell around her feet.

She stood, her arms modestly across her breasts, which blatantly revealed her arousal by the hard nipples pressed against her thin camisole.

Her legs shook with fear and excitement but she was painfully aware of how plain her bloomers and frayed camisole were compared to Miss Tamara’s under clothes.

She had worn silk hose too, Calley had noticed. So much more fashionable than Calley’s course gartered stockings.

Calley turned back to face her tormentors, her face flushed with embarrassment.

She kept her feet and knees pressed together as if she could prevent the spreading damp patch between her legs from showing.

Her head was lowered but she couldn’t resist peering through her lashes at Tamara and Sale and waited to be dismissed.
 
Ringo

Relieved, I had smiled up at Hanna feeling her acceptance in the softness of her hand in mine. I felt a load had been lifted as I had no idea what the small nuggets that I had panned would be worth and I had no cash to pay for my meal or lodging for the night. I could have gone hungry another day and curled up on the damp straw in the livery stable, but when I saw the yellow gleam of gold in my pan I felt as if my life was going to change for the better.

Now with a cup of coffee in my hand and a satifying meal in my stomach, I felt as if I had died and went to heaven. To top it off the owner of the bank had approached me with news that the bank would be open tomorrow, and Hanna had gone to get my room ready. I began to get sleepy thinking about the prospect of sleeping between soft cotton sheets instead of on the ground like I had for what seemed like most of my life. I picked up my bag of gold and stuffed it down the front of my shirt.

The heat of the kitchen wafted across the room accompanied by the wonderfull smells of food and though I didn't doze off I let myself be lulled into a peacefull state of remembering.

" I had always been a loner and a drifter and even after I met Lily and we had stood in front of the preacher and said our I do's things didn't change much. Maybe it was because we were so much alike that in never worked out. When we got along we made love like there was no tomorrow and when we didn't we fought like cats and dogs. I was usually the one who took off but it wer'nt long after I was gone she had another man in her life. Seems like when I did finally get tired of looking for greener grass, and rode back into Dodge, every one sort of snickered behind my back and talked in whispers when I asked about Lily. Not that I was an angel, in fact, though my desire was for riches there always was a woman in some one horse town or another that caught my fancy and I took up with. Tat last one took the cake as she was a loner like myself and we both found ourselves on the wrong side of the law more frequently than not. Strange part it was that she acted more like a man than a woman, dressed like one and shot rode and drank like one. Which was ok for me cause I could trust her to watch my back and I watched hers. It didn't matter to her that I chased other women in fact she sort of enjoyed watching me carry on when we was drinking it up on a saturday night in some noisy saloon.

So we got along just fine until she rode into Dodge one day when I was havin' some fun with Lily and started shooting up the town just for spite. After that fiasco Lily left town as did most of the residents and I just drifted north. On the way I resolved to change my ways, quit drinking, chasing women and getting into fights. The yukon seemed the place to get away from all that and here I was.


I felt Hanna's soft hand on my shoulder, shaking me back to the present and smiled up at her.

"Your room's ready, Ringo". she said softly.

Thank you, Miss Hanna I replied taking the key from her small hand, getting to my feet and heading for the stairs. Sudenly I remembered my bag of gold and taking it from underneath my shirt handed them to her.

"Mam, would you find a safe place for these for tonight, theres no one in town I know or could trust 'cept you" I grinned,

"Any wonman who can cook like you do and run a fine place like this, can certainlytake care of a little bag of gold."

Somehow I felt I could trust this woman and I was hoping I could get to know her better but wanting to not make the same mistakes I did before, decided I better bide my time before making any advances.
 
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Victoria

I continued to pleasure Rafe in the ways I knew he liked. My hands roamed the back of his legs as I pulled him deeped into my mouth.

I always did keep an eye on the girl. I watched as she shed her clothing and was intrigued my her shyness.

I pulled away from Rafe but never let my touch leave his body.

"My dear Calley, why is it you shy away from us? Come here so se can see you more closely."

I watched as she approached slowly and I reached up taking her hand and pulled her close and into Rafes arms as I went back to work on his manhood
 
Anna DeSilva

Anna smiled when she heard Tad's stomach growling. Men were always hungry it seemed. Especially the young ones. He would nead a hearty meal, this one.

"Ma’am," he said apologetically, whipping his hat off his head again. "I'm sorry, but I didn't git yer name."

"Anna," she replied. "My name is Anna."

Anna wiped her hands self-consciously on her apron before accepting Tad's. No longer as soft or as delicate as they had once been, she wondered if he would notice.

She blinked and grinned as the young man pumped her arm vigorously. She could feel the leathery calluses on his hands. Yes, this was a man used to hard work and somehow she didn't think it would matter if he noticed hers.

Before she could say anything, the sound of a gunshot followed by shouts and screams carried into the kitchen. Tad already had his rifle in hand and was heading for the door when she laid a hand on his arm. "Mi scusi, Tad," she said quietly. "Stay. It is a bad place sometimes, but Miss Lou and the polizia will take care. Per favore? You need food and a bed, sì?"

Tad looked from the door to Anna and back again, but the lure of food and a bed were stronger than a scuffle in a saloon. Even he knew such things were commonplace whenever men and whiskey mixed.

"Sit." She used her 'no nonsense' voice, the one she usually reserved for the little ones. Not looking to see if he had done as told, Anna began to prepare a hearty meal for the newest employee at the Aurora Borealis.
 
Veronique Lovejoy

Veronique keeps wondering to herself about this trip west. Her manager said it was a great way to get some publicity in the North Americas. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Everything started out wonderfully. There were lots of parties and dinner invitations in the east. The operas were large and the crowds larger. Ever since she’d started riding in a stage coach she’d begun to wonder if things were going sour. Jack had also begun to pay more attention to her. Almost as if he was trying to ingratiate himself into her emotions. She’d begun to get suspicious of him about that as well. She had written to her parents and fiancée about her trip across the ocean. She hoped to hear from them once they had made this next stop. She’d begun to miss her parents actually. Maybe she’d get to spend some time with her fiancée when she returned to England. She kept wondering about all these business trips of his. It’s almost as if he was keeping away from her or something. Maybe he’d changed his mind about getting married?

All these thoughts and more were running through her head while the stage traveled west.
 
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