>>>>“I, for one,” Cassie said, taking a seat, “will never be so foolish for lack of sense as to turn down help when it’s offered.<i>Especially</i>when guns are involved.”  Hesitating, she realized there were only three glasses. “Ah. This a private party?  Or do you have room for one more?”<<<<<br/><br/>Jeb took Miss Vickie's glass, wiped it dry with a clean handkerchief from his vest pocket, then poured Cassie a tall dram of whiskey from the bottle. "Always room for one more Miss. And by the looks of things this mornin', y'all handled those miscreants jus' fine." Jeb raised his glass in a toast, and tipped his cap to her. Jeb decided he liked the breed of woman in this town, strong, capable and independent. Being easy on the eyes wasn't such a bad thing either. "Jebadiah Morsey, Ma'am. Originally from Missouri, lately Parts Unknown. Glad to make your acquaintance. But I'd appreciate it if ya didn't call me Jebadiah if ya don't mind, nobody ever called me that but me Mum when she was mad at me, and that bitch of a nun at primary school."<br/><br/>After taking a long drink of his glass and giving Cassie time to do likewise, Jeb spoke up. "So, I'm guessing you work security here for Miss Vickie? If that be the case, I'd keep an eye on the two well dressed fellers standing at the far end of the bar. I've had dealings with them before, and they are dangerous cats. The tall one in the derby hat is one Jessup O'Toole. He's a Pinkerton man, and he don't bother bringing men in alive, be they innocent or guilty. And from what I've heard he gets his jollies from beatin' on women in the bedroom, if you take my meaning. His dark complected partner is Johnny Two-Pines. Grew up a halfbreed Cherokee slave in the Territories. That man just enjoys killin', and he shares a weakness for drink like many of his Folk. No idea whether they are here workin' or jus' passing through, but things could go bad either way."<br/><br/>>>>><br/>"Good evening, everyone!" She announced, her voice a bright cut above the din of the saloon. Nowhere toward a shout, borrowing more from a cheer, she'd clap her hands together and survey the faces as each turned in either bewilderment or intrigue to the woman, her silver silk and flaxen hair. She'd gotten most of the blood out of the suede of her toes and calves.<br/>But not all.<br/>"If I could borrow just a moment of your time. There is a matter of..." She grinned devilishly, "money to discuss."<<<<<br/><br/>Jeb's head jerked around at the sound of Missy's voice, and his face twisted with disgust at her smile and sweet words. He spat on the floor. "That primrose bloodsuckin' leech, she'll bleed this town dry and feed the husk to the buzzards. Mark my words. Ain't no place safe from the Eastern slave masters. Talkin' of money? That money will go in only one pocket, folk here will be fightin' over the scraps." Jeb drained his glass and repacked his pipe. "So much for a peaceful evening."