Post by Lovely on Nov 5, 2010 16:02:36 GMT -5
June 26, Year 2
afternoon
"Is that all you ever think about? Now what did I tell you about putting those boots on my table... Mister.. Resher?" Maggie was clearly annoyed telling him again, but smiling and sparkling all the while she 'reminded' him with a sweep of her hand to send his feet to the floor.
"I've been a rancher for 30 damn years, woman! What do you expect I think about?" He grinned, his deep timbre filling the space even when he spoke more quietly. His feet thumped to the floor and he puffed his newly lit cigar, eyeing the sassy saloon owner. "You care to take a stab at making me think about something different?" He teased, the sparkle shining in his eyes beyond the creases of sun, smiles, wind, sand. and many years to boot.
"Best not ask a lady what she'd stab at in her own parlor, or her place of business," she warned though the grin stayed etched. "And don't think for a minute that either one of us was thinking about your ... ranching... just now. Wrangling, more like."
His laughter rolled and rumbled out, lighting up his eyes even more. His fingers lifted his glass in salute to her spunk and he drank to her silently.
Her head tilted as he laughed, not sure what he found that amusing. She pulled a dish over and slammed it down, though not hard enough to break. "And stop dropping those smelly ashes on my floor. I wouldn't think twice about giving Lucky the afternoon off and handing you the mop."
"I'm sure you're just itching to give Lucky the afternoon off and spend it alone with me.. but we both know I'd just end up proposing again.." He grinned and flicked his ashes, not really caring if they hit the dish or the floor. "Now you stop fussing and let that boy earn his keep.. you know I always tip him for cleaning up my ashes."
"Might need to tip him a little better since it might be more than just the ashes from that disgusting, filthy, rotting blob of weeds you insist on stinking my saloon up with the next time. You set my place on fire, this whole town will go up." A wink of fear flashed through her eyes but was gone in that instant.
"Well you're in an ornery mood this afternoon... more so than usual. It's very unbecoming of a lady." He smiled again, this time flicking his ashes in her dish. Resher shifted and sighed, standing from the chair he'd been so relaxed in. "I'll come back sometime when your whiskey is less sour." He murmured, grabbing his hat and placing it on his head as he started towards the swinging doors of the saloon.
"Ain't my whiskey that's gone sour," she fussed as she watched him slip away, leaning over the table to mop down the mess he'd left.
He took a step back and tossed a few coins on the bar, never leaving his tab unpaid at her place. He added a couple that she should know were for the boy who was always cleaning up the ashes and then went out into the brighter light of the street.
afternoon
"Is that all you ever think about? Now what did I tell you about putting those boots on my table... Mister.. Resher?" Maggie was clearly annoyed telling him again, but smiling and sparkling all the while she 'reminded' him with a sweep of her hand to send his feet to the floor.
"I've been a rancher for 30 damn years, woman! What do you expect I think about?" He grinned, his deep timbre filling the space even when he spoke more quietly. His feet thumped to the floor and he puffed his newly lit cigar, eyeing the sassy saloon owner. "You care to take a stab at making me think about something different?" He teased, the sparkle shining in his eyes beyond the creases of sun, smiles, wind, sand. and many years to boot.
"Best not ask a lady what she'd stab at in her own parlor, or her place of business," she warned though the grin stayed etched. "And don't think for a minute that either one of us was thinking about your ... ranching... just now. Wrangling, more like."
His laughter rolled and rumbled out, lighting up his eyes even more. His fingers lifted his glass in salute to her spunk and he drank to her silently.
Her head tilted as he laughed, not sure what he found that amusing. She pulled a dish over and slammed it down, though not hard enough to break. "And stop dropping those smelly ashes on my floor. I wouldn't think twice about giving Lucky the afternoon off and handing you the mop."
"I'm sure you're just itching to give Lucky the afternoon off and spend it alone with me.. but we both know I'd just end up proposing again.." He grinned and flicked his ashes, not really caring if they hit the dish or the floor. "Now you stop fussing and let that boy earn his keep.. you know I always tip him for cleaning up my ashes."
"Might need to tip him a little better since it might be more than just the ashes from that disgusting, filthy, rotting blob of weeds you insist on stinking my saloon up with the next time. You set my place on fire, this whole town will go up." A wink of fear flashed through her eyes but was gone in that instant.
"Well you're in an ornery mood this afternoon... more so than usual. It's very unbecoming of a lady." He smiled again, this time flicking his ashes in her dish. Resher shifted and sighed, standing from the chair he'd been so relaxed in. "I'll come back sometime when your whiskey is less sour." He murmured, grabbing his hat and placing it on his head as he started towards the swinging doors of the saloon.
"Ain't my whiskey that's gone sour," she fussed as she watched him slip away, leaning over the table to mop down the mess he'd left.
He took a step back and tossed a few coins on the bar, never leaving his tab unpaid at her place. He added a couple that she should know were for the boy who was always cleaning up the ashes and then went out into the brighter light of the street.