Mystery Lawman


Evalyn_icon.jpg Character-Steven_icon.jpg


* None

Summary: Evalyn assists a wounded lawman.

Date: 1/15/1883

Log Title

Mystery Lawman


A figures sits on a horse in the middle of the street. The gray is lathered, and covered in mud. The rider leans against the horses neck, one arm down by his side. He horse takes unsteady steps meandering. The man in the saddle doesn't say a word.

Evalyn bustles down the street, trying to ward of the cold futily. The clop clop clop of the horses hooves catch her attnetion. Turning her gaze back to the sound, she squints her eyes in the darkness. "Hello?" The clopping hooves continue until the horse begins to proceed past her. She looks to the silent man and gasps softly. Daring to step off the covered walk, she crunches through the snow and to the horse. "Whoa… easy there.." She grabs at the reins and turns to the man. "Sir?"

Blood stains the arm, run down the leg, dripping off the stirrup dotting the snow. They gray snorts quietly, and lifts his head up as you take the reins. The horse's movement brings a sudden response from the man. He jerks upright suddenly, lifting the wounded arm, from where it hangs he brings up the pistol. A loud click as the hammer is drawn back. He stares wide eyed for a moment before, the muzzle of the gun sways, and lowers. Unable to even hold the pistol up he falls back against the horses neck, his arm, and pistol falling to hang beside his boot.

Evalyn startles as the man sits straight up and simply freezes, her blue gaze almost crossing as she focuses on the muzzle trained on her. She remains calm and simply blinks as the gun is slowly lowered. Swallowing once, she just takes the reigns, pulling the horse in a different direction. Her gaze flickers to the gun on occasion and to the man. Simply daring to tug the horse along the snow and mud laden streets towards the doctor's office.

Steven slips back into a unconsciousness. The pistol dangling from his hand now pointed at the ground. For the moment he goes where the horse goes.

Evalyn continues pulling the horse along, gently, and whispering soothingly to the worn out horse. Her boots sink deeply into the mud and snow, tripping a bit on occasion. She may mutter a few words here and there, but continues on with her journey. She pauses and turns her gaze to the piustol, debate filling her eyes. "No.." She mutters to herself and keeps the horse moving westwards.

The gray clops along without protest. Both rider, and horse seem to have ridden far. The man wears the start of a trail beard. The horse is in bad need of some feed, and neither of them smell all that pleasant. The horse lurches for a step, and with a quiet *plop* the pistol falls from his hand, and into the mess of snow, and mud on the street.

Evalyn pauses in the intersection, tugging at the gray towards the north. The feel of the gun dropping in the snow beside her causes her to look down. She looks around as if she were up to mischief and looks to the gun. Almost as if touching something highly forbidden, she bends down picking it up by the handle with thumb and forefinger. She holds it away from herself as if it held the plague. For a moment she eyes it then frowns. Gripping the handle a bit tighter, she brings it onto herself and tucks it into the hem of her skirts. Clicking her tongue, she pulls the horse north.

The gray nickers and steps forward a bit, as if it knows its about to get a rest. The rider doesn't make a sound. the cloud of breath coming from under his hat the only sign that he still lives.

Evalyn pulls the horse up to a hitching post just outside the office. Unfortunately, there is no feed, but a trough of partially frozen water sat for the horses refreshment. Her gaze was on the bleeding man. Now what? She looks both ways up and down the street, but noone was around. She reaches up to the man, grabbing at his shoulder to shake him. "Sir! Sir!" She frowns, her blue gaze creased in worry.

Your hand comes away wet with blood, evidently the source of the bleeding. He groans as you shake him, the pain causing his eyes to flutter open. He breathes for a moment, before his eyes stare at your unfocused.

Evalyn continues to shake lightly. "Come on.. focus sir.." She gets up close to look him in the eye. "Come inside.. let me help you…"

Steven stares at you blinking for a moment, giving no sign he's heard. He closes his eyes, and sets his jaw. He slowly swings his leg over the saddle, and almost colapses in a pile at your feet. His hand stays hooked over the saddle horn, as he slowly pulls himself upright.

Evalyn steps up to him, wrapping her arm around his waist. She works hard to help hoist him up. Repositioning herself, she moves so his good arm can wrap around her shoulders. "Come.. lean on me.." she says calmly to him. "I will help you inside."

You feel him take a deep breath, before he lets go of the saddle. His weight presses against you for a moment before keeps his feet. He nods once, and takes a step toward the wooden sidewalk.

One step at a time, she guides him into the office. The door opens and as they step inside a warmth from the stove fills the room. "Through the door over here.." She says guiding him to the back where the door is open, showing a neat row of beds. One step at a time, she continues to guide him, allowing him to lean on her as much as he needed.

Steven sways slightly feeling the heated room. He mutters quietly, "My hoss… "

Evalyn continues to the recovery room, "I will get Mister Yates to tend to him. But first… you must be tended to. " She moves towards a bed and helps him onto it. "Lie back.. I will get my supplies.."


Steven sinks onto the bed, collapsing as if his spine was just removed. One spurs still spins as stills, his breathing deep. His clothes show the dirt and mud of the trail, the obvious bullet wound, not much else.

Evalyn assists him to get in a bit more comfortable position in the bed before disapearing for but a brief moment. She scurries back with a basket covered in a clean cloth. Setting the basket on the table situated to the side of the bed, she pulls back the cloth revealing tools of her trade. Pulling out a pair of large scissors, she turns to him and quickly begins to snip away at the fabric. "What is your name?" Evalyn turns her gaze briefly to meet his, hoping to get him involved into conversation lest she lost him.

Steven blinks a bit and lifts his eyes to the voice. He shakes his head once as if he doesn't know. His hand lifts pull his coat away from his shoulder. On the inside of the garment is a round pin carved from a silver peso. Around the star is printed, "Texas Ranger". He croaks out, "Where?"

Evalyn blinks. "You are a long way from hom there Ranger." She says quietly. The fabric is pulled back to expose the bullet hole in the shoulder. She frowns as crimson fluid seeped from it. "Colorado. This town is Silver Creek." She looks to him a moment as she places the scissors to the side. "I am Evalyn. I am the town nurse. I brought you to the doctor's office." She turns to the basin of water sitting next to the basket. Dipping a cloth into the clean water, she turns to begin washing the wound.

Steven winces, and inhales with a hiss. He looks down for a moment, and stirs as if he's moving to get up, "My gun……"

Evalyn places a blood stained hand on his chest to push him back. "I got it.." she says softly. "You will not need it here. This is a place of healing, not fighting." Though to ease his curiosity, she reaches for the hem of her skirt and pulls it out. "It is here.. you dropped it." She smiles to him and then hands it to him so he could feel the cold metal in his hand. "Now lie back… you will need to be cuaterized and sutured."

Steven can't even press back against her hand. He sinks back against the bed, the gun in his free hand, held against his chest. He lets out a long breath,a nd glances down, "Roland."

Evalyn blinks several times. "Your name is Roland?" She says in curiosity. "You are the second Roland I have met." she gives a soft smile to him. "Do you require a bit of whiskey before I do this? It will be quite painful."

Steven shakes his head, "The hoss is Roland…" He looks at her a moment, and nods, "Whisky."

Evalyn moves to a cabinet and pulls down a bottle of golden fluid. Bringing it back to him, she looks to him. "I have run out of laudenum. I am afraid whiskey will just have to do." She tilts the bottle to his lips, letting the golden fluid pass.

Steven swallows a mouth full of the liquid, and begins to cough. He reashes up to take the bottle with his good hand, "I'm Steven… "

Evalyn smiles softly. "Pleased to meet you. Though I wish it were on better terms." She takes the bottle of whiskey and pours a bit into the wound.

Steven grits his teeth again, and mutters something under his breath. He pants for a moment before asking, "Is it still in there?"

Evalyn nods solemnly. "I am getting to that.." She sets the bottle to the side and reaches towards the basket grabbing something that resembled a pair of tongs. She turns back to the wound and prods about a bit. "I am sorry.." she says quietly. Then the cold feel of metal is felt entering the wound, digging around the sensitive flesh.

Steven starts to ask what the apology is for, when he feels the sharp pain in his shoulder. He curses through clenched teeth trying to hold still,.

As the tongs are slowly retracted, the sound of the metal bullet falling into the bottom of a small ceramic bowl is heard. Cool water soon follows as the wound is rinsed out, then the sting of the alcohol is felt once more. She reaches out to touch the side of his arm in sympathy. "I will return…" Her feet pad off through the room into the next …

Evalyn returns quickly with a rudementary red hot poker. The wound was still bleeding and it needed to stop. Cauterizing was the only way. She looks to the unconscious man and steps forward. Without word, she inserts the red-hot poker into the wound, sealing the blood vessels and coagulating the blood.

Steven is thankfully not conscious for that. The sound of his skin burning, and the stench is brief. He stirs groaning, the pistol still clutched to his chest even now.

Evalyn removes the poker once it was finished and turns to return it to it's proper place. Returning to the bedside, she pulls up a chair and prepares herself for the delicate work of stitching the wound back together. She was glad he was unconscious and with the previous pain he just had to endure, this was a minor one. When the job was complete, she quickly bandages it with gresh bandages and finishes up by pulling a warm blanket up and over his form.

Steven's eyes open slightly as the blanket goes over him. He blinks and looks up, "What'd I miss?"

Evalyn smiles. "You are a lucky man there… you missed out on the worst of it… " She rises and collects her instruments, setting them back into the basket. She turns to the water basin, rinsing off her hands. "You are all finished.. bandaged up.." Turning to him, she cants her head. "You alright?"

Steven shakes his head slowly, "Naw.. I been shot…." His head nods to one side, exhaustion creeping up on him, "Thank ye Maam.. I appreciate it."

Evalyn continues to smile softly. "It is what I do." She reassures him. "If you need rest, please.. feel free to rest. I will bring you clean water to drink and a mel from the cafe in case you become hungry."

Steven looks up at her and nods slowly, "There a little money in my saddle bags… Take what ye need, nee to board the hoss…." He looks down at the pistol. you got law in this town?"

You say, "I will take the horse to the stables which was near where I found you." She says softly. "And the answer is no… there is no law here… hasn't been any rational or law-abiding lawman here in a long time.""

Steven pauses for a moment and looks up at her, "No law…" He lets out a long breath, "There was fella… Rode a big red roan.. carries a big long Kentucky Rifle…..You seen anyone like that?"

Evalyn shakes her head. "No.." She admits honestly. "Then again, I pretty much stay to myself. Do you know a name? What does he look like? I could keep an eye out if you like."

Steven says, "Tall… fair haired… What is today?""
GAME: The current IC time is: Thu Jan 15 20:10:58 1883

Evalyn answers the question in soft tones, "January 15. 1883."

Steven says, "He's been on the run over 60 days then."

Steven says, "He's a killer Maam… Best watch for 'im."

Evalyn frowns. "Won't be the first time this town had to keep an eye out for killers. Seems to be a common occurence here." She sighs. "But those are tales for another time. You should rest now." She glances to the window where the soft glow of the moon streams in. "I should get your horse to the stables."

Steven nods slowly. He eyes the whisky bottle again, and after some thought, reaches over for it, taking it in hand. He pauses, and looks over to you, "I'm in debt to ye Maam.." He holds up the bottle with a wince, "Do ye mind?"

Evalyn shakes her head. "Have as much as you want. You deserve it." she smiles. "But do not get yourself sick. You have lost a lot of blood and that alcohol will hit you hard." She motions with her hand in a motherly fashion. Then she stops and reaches for the basket. "I will see to your horse. Do not worry about being in debt." She offers a smile to him before turning as if about to leave.


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