The Gambler


ohls_icon.jpg ace_icon.jpg


* Segenam

Summary: Ace goes looking for a horse thief and finds the blacksmith instead.

Date: 19 February, 1884.

The Gambler

Epona Stables

"Stop being such a baby. Hold still." Arden's voice echoes back from the rear of the stable, though she's nowhere in sight, so inside a stall might be one possibility. The shuffling and movements of a horse might be another. "I know you don't like wearing them you know."

For whatever reason that Ace is wandering into the stables may well be his own, but the sound of his boots falling on the ground and the gentle shuffling noise of cards in his hand can be heard. The noise of the voice draws his attention, his footfalls wandering in the direction of words and horse.

Arden has gotten used to the sound of the world passing around her, and so, if she does hear footsteps or cards, she, for the moment, pays it no mind, as she finishes placing Segenam's hoof boots back on his rear legs, before she moves around to the front. "Grandfather should have named you Melkedoodum, honestly." Seg, for his part, is doing his best to step whenever Arden needs him to hold still, but despite his species, it's not much different than a child being willful when you're getting them dressed in the morning.

Slipping up to that stall, Ace pauses and leans against it to look in just to find out what the Blacksmith is doing with the horse. The clicking of the cards in his off hand continues as he clears his throat gently.

The stallion and the woman look around at nearly the same time, as the man enters the stall, and Seg still, which works on Arden's favour, as she gets the last boot onto his hooves and sets his right foreleg down, rising and brushing her hands off on her farrier's apron, "Yes, can I help you?" Seg steps forward, moving around so that his head and chest are in front of Arden, as he moves to sample the hay set out for him.

"Was just wanderin' and passin' through, overheard some noise in here wanted to see if it was a horse thief or not is all." Ace responds in his dry tone before adding with the bare smirk of his lips, "You ain't a horse thief I reckon?"

"If I was, I certainly wouldn't steal this lump." Despite the less than glowing evaluation of the appaloosa, Arden's hand is gentle, loving as she strokes his shoulder. "He doesn't like wearing the boots, I think they chafe his vanity, but his hooves need to heal from being unshod."

"I heard a man say once that the only thing more stubborn than a horse is a woman who has set her mind." Ace observes looking between the horse then back to you. "Granted, I can easily see the merit in that statement."

"There are quite a number of saying out there that are both true and relevant." Arden steps around the stallion, moving forward to offer her hand, "I've seen you around town, but I don't think we've been introduced," offers the woman, in her accented lilt, "Arden Ohls, the town's blacksmith and farrier."

The man dips his head at the greeting and makes a slight motion to himself. "Folks call me Ace most places, it's what I'll go by here." He doesn't make an immediate move at the offering of a hand but after a moment, reaches out to take it and shake it as a male would to another male.

Arden gives no reaction to the handshake, except for the gesture itself, her grip firm and professional, before she reclaims her hand, "As you like, then, Ace. You just passing through Silver Creek, or you plan to be staying for a while?" She turns away then, going to clean up her tools, placing most of them back into her belt, the others she sets into a carrying box, likely to return to the smithy.

"Least a few weeks, maybe a month see how things go here. Don't much like to settle in one place too long." Ace responds to you rather casually, watching as you start picking up the tools.

"I know the feeling. I spent most of my teenaged and adult years traveling through Canada and down into the states with my father. We rarely settled anywhere for long. Things are a bit slow in town at the moment, given the storms we've had coming through. But I suppose the marshal and the criminals that live on the outskirts will be keeping things lively here soon."

"Eh, lively is one thing, dangerous is quite another. I prefer nice, quiet, and gambling cohesive." Ace explains while leaning himself up against the stall. "If you get my drift.

"The marshal wants things dangerous in town. It's already dangerous enough if you leave the city limits. But apparently, he can't seem to track down the people he's hunting, so instead of doing his job, he's decided to make carrying a gun illegal in town, leaving the town defenseless, so that they'll get careless and come in." A shrug, "I suspect, given his track record, he doesn't mind using innocent people as bait." She turns back, "So welcome to Silver Creek. I don't expect you'll be staying for long. But enjoy it while you're here. I'm sure the gentlemen at the saloon and over at the casino will be glad to have your money to supplement their income."

Ace blinks then laughs heartily shaking his head. "Missy? I've sat down at cards with the best in this damn country and walked around with my pockets full of chips. This little town? The challenge isn't in winning, it's in not winning so much as to get a noose around my neck."

Arden, having put her tools away, moves back to Seg, sliding a curry comb onto her hand and starting to work it in circular motions along his shoulders, moving with him as he eats, "If you say so." her tone is light and even, giving no indication of her belief or lack there of in your statement.

"Indeed I do." Ace says with a nod of his head. "Well, pleasure meetin' ya miss." A tip of his head as he scrutinizes the horse once more then turning, Ace makes to move off out of the Stable.

"A good evening to you, Ace." Arden, out of politeness, waits until the man has stepped out of the stall, before she goes back to grooming, "Bit of a chansomps, that one, Seg." The horse lifts his head for a moment, huffing out a breath, before he goes back to eating and being groomed.


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