Players:
NPCs:
* None.
Summary: Arden rattles the bones of the old blacksmith's shop. The Sheriff intercepts.
Date: 2 February, 1884.
Old Bones
Blacksmith's Shop
Colton steps into the shop, and glances around. He calls out, "Hello? Anyone in here?"
Arden steps out from one of the holding stalls, a hand brushing a string of cobwebs away from her face before it can tangle in her hair and tear free from the roofbeam to which it's affixed. With her eyes already adjusted to the lower light level, she gives the man a once over, and steps into view, "Just myself, Sheriff."
Colton squints into the darkness, and nods once, "Sorry.. Heard noises.. Thought this place was closed…" He touches the brim of his hat, "Maam."
Arden steps closer, hands casually at her sides, as she steps close enough that she's inside the shafts of light coming in from the outside. Her accent might or might not be familiar, depending on the range of the people coming in and out of the town, but it's that quirky blend of french and canadian that bleeds together in the people from Quebec. "It seems to be. Which is quite a shame. This must have been a wonderful place once." She takes a moment and then continues, "My apologies. Arden Ohls. I've only just arrived in town. Well, a few days ago. I had hoped to find work here." She lifts a hand, to indicate that she means the shop in particular, and not the town in general.
Colton pauses ,and arches an eyebrow, "You a smithy?"
Colton looks at her and shakes his head, "Never in my life heard of a woman smithy."
A nod of her head, Arden's voice coming a few seconds later, "And a farrier as well. Horse driver, breaker. I've done more than enough of both in my life." And while the woman doesn't look old, by any means, neither does she looks like a woman barely out of her formative years, "I suppose we do things a bit differently up where I'm from."
Colton nods slowly, "I reckon so.. We need a smith around her bad.. I reckon you could get yer share of work if you wanted…"
"And I'd be more than happy to accept it. And I do good work." Arden steps closer, coming out of the confines of the smith, to stand in the almost open air, out of the dust and disuse. And her tone isn't boastful it's just…what it is. A fact, "You wouldn't by any chance happen to know who owns this building, and if they might be willing to let it for a good rate, or a percentage of the fees?"
Colton rubs his chin, "No Maam. Not off the top of my head.. Course…If anyone knew.. It'd be that fellar at the bank… What is his name.. Jake maybe.. He keeps track of all the deeds, and such..He knows who owns everything."
A hand rises, waving off something that you might have said, and her voice clarifies a moment later, "Please, Arden, or Ohls, as you like, Sheriff. I've never been a ma'am." The edge of her mouth quirks in a smile, as she looks down at herself, dressed…not that differently from you, save the cut of her clothes is a bit rougher, "Although, I suppose I could add a frill or two." The amusement fades, and then she's serious again, "Thank you for the information, Sheriff. I'll see if I can find the bank and the man you mentioned." A glance around, "Seems a shame to let a place like this go bad."
Colton shrugs, "Things happen to folks.. If'n yer serious about farrier, and breakin work.. Come see me once you get settled.. I'll see if I can't help keep ye busy."
"Yes, things do happen. But a door opens every time one closes. And once I have things all arranged, I would be glad to see you. You've an office in town, I think? I'm sure I saw one while I was learning my way around." She pauses, and then nods, more to herself than to you, "You've been very kind."
Colton touches the brim of his hat, "Evenin to ye Maam…" He turns to leave, "Oh..Names Colton Reynolds. Welcome to Silver Springs.. Give me a hollar if you need anything."
"Thank you, Sheriff Reynolds." Arden offers a nod, a curtsy would be just…well, comical on her, but it's respectful none the less, "I certainly will. Have a good evening."
Colton says, "You too Maam."
