Business At Epona


grace_icon.jpg teagan_icon.jpg william_icon.jpg


* Hector (hired hand at Epona)

Summary: Grace makes a late night call to Epona Ranch.

Date: February 15, 1884

Business at Epona

Pasture - Epona Ranch

  • Teagan inhales quickly, pressing the trigger and she feels him curve around her body protectively as the shot is released.
  • "And puuuuull the trigger." The resounding crack comes as little suprise, though the tree that only William's eyes could pick out explodes in the distance. "And that would be one Reb down." A smile crosses the outlaw's face, and his hands fall, allowing Teagan to support the shotgun entirely on her own. "Damn good shot, darling."
  • "Halloo…" It's usually wise to announce one's self when approaching someone with a gun from behind. Heading out by foot from the stables is the tiny redheaded figure of a woman. Likely a stranger to those gathered.
  • Teagan looks up at him, her breath coming in rolling puffs in the cold. There is an intimate smile on her lips, trembling closed as she looks up at him, her arms lowering the shotgun. At the sound of steps, Hector following with a frown, "I tried to tell the woman it was late for a visit, Lady Franklin, Lord Franklin…" He looks none to pleased.
  • "As long as she isn't foliage, I think we'll manage, Hector. Thank you." It's the lord that steps forward, his hands tucked rather securely into the leather gunbelt around his hips. "The lady is in a foliage murdering mood, after all. Is there something we can help you with, Miss?" William's smile is absolutely polite. Though an astute observer would notice no small amount of sarcasm…Or amusement.
  • Grace seems unperturbed by Hector's displeasure. Her arms are full with two baskets, and she'd been hell-bent on making sure that the Lady knew where her burden was to go. She'd been told that they were awake and out, so why not go straight to the ruler so to speak? "Beggin' yer pardon," she says with a thickly musical Cork lilt and a broad smile for both man and woman. "But 'tis too cold fer this tae wait any longer." She's a Fenian through and through, so she doesn't exactly curtsey or anything of the sort. She's just friendly and polite. "I'm Grace O'Coilean, the new clothier in town. Yer man the Sheriff did ask me tae sew yer new cook a wardrobe tae keep her warm… 'Tis that I've with me, and a few things fer Mister Moses…" She gestures with the baskets.
  • Teagan's small hands hold the shotgun, following her husband to see who rides about at this time of night. She takes a step so that she stands to the right, her body pressing to his arm as though unable to be even a few steps away from him. "Ah. The Sheriff did tell me clothing for the cook would be delivered. I shall leave it for her arrival and let Mister St. Cloud know he's some as well. Thank you, Miss O'Coilean. Please do not feel you need to ride so far in the dead of night to deliver things to us. It would be much safer during the day, or to have your man bring them out."
  • "Yeah, no one ever did figure out what happened to the Preacher." William's smile alludes to some secret knowledge only he has, though his arm does wrap around Teagan's waist idly. "Hector? Round the boys up for the night. Let them know that I want standard four hour patrols. Three man. A gunshot is, as always, our warning." He looks to the man just past Grace, motioning with one gloved hand to the dark woods. "If that idiot comes after me, I want to know it."
  • "Ach, Marcus is doin' a wee bit o' work 'round the teacher's house fer meself. Fixin' the broken window from the breakin," Grace says with an easy smile for Teagan. "He doesna ken meself left the party, so.. If ye can see yerselves fit tae leave tha' bit o' information out, I'd be more than grateful. He's been a wee bit jumpy since I fell in the snow bank at the river, aye?" Her smile softens. "Sure an' still… 'Tis far too cold fer tha' poor girrl tae be runnin' around any longer as she is. I thought herself would like tae wake up tae some nice warm, pretty things." She finally drops a small curtsey, but it isn't the motions of a country girl. It would seem that Grace has some education beyond the normal Bog Irish. "I'll be leavin' them with ye then?" she asks Teagan softly. "An' please… Tell Mis.. er, Sheriff Colton tha' he's -not- tae pay me fer them. He keeps tryin' tae, an' 'tis just beginin' tae be rude. 'Tis a gift fer the girrl, ye ken?" She glances at William. "An' tis a pleasure tae finally meet ye, Mister Franklin. Ye take care o' me Marcus, aye?"
  • "I'm certain that you can apprise him of the no charge when you see him in town, since you will most likely see him before I will, Miss O'Coilean. The request was, after all between the two of you, was it not?" Her smile is silken as she nestles to her husband.
  • "I have a feeling Marcus will take care of himself." William replies after a short pause, his arm drawing his wife even closer if not strictly for the warmth. He smirks quietly at himself, head tilting as he considers the meaning of his words and what to say next. "I'm retired, after all. My life of crime is rather behind me… I suggest you have Berry do the same. Before he either ends up dead or in prison."
  • Grace smiles quietly. "Aye, 'tis tha' we've said as much. Himself has ta'en an apprenticeship with the blacksmith. We're tae be married as soon as the priest comes back tae town." She pauses. "I hope ye both will come…?" She pauses, letting the words hang for the couple's own benefit, not really seeming to expect an answer. "I'd better be back tae town. Stop by if ye be wantin' somethin' made. The mail is still bringin' me subscriptions tae the Parisian ladies' journals, so I can keep ye up tae date." She sets the baskets at the other woman's feet, waves and takes her leave without a backwards glance, her business accomplished.
  • Teagan's eyes meet her husband's, a soft sound of appreciation parting her lips as she presses nearer to him. A hand is splayed to his chest as a nod from the Lady has Hector escorting the woman out.
  • "I hope your urge to shoot things has been quenched, Lady Franklin." William replies, his eyes ever on Grace as she departs. "And now that Moses has clothes, we can take the lock off the linen closet. Once again, our bedsheets are safe."


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