Jules blushed at the insinuation she and Jess owned anything of value.  Sure, they each had a piece of Mama's jewelry (Jess had a silver crucifix, Jules had the sapphire engagement ring Fred had given his bride-to-be more than twenty five years earlier) and Jess had her guitar, but all their personal items were packed in a single steamer trunk already safely stored in the back room.<br/><br/>"It's mostly just supplies," the redhead explained.  "Ink, paper, type, spare parts for the press...I don't know why anyone would want to steal anything like that.  It's the weather I'm worried about, mostly."  She pushed her hat back slightly as she glanced up at the cloudless sky.  "As for the barber chairs...we're only renting the place, you see.  We knew Bob Jakes back in Iowa."  They'd employed him actually, but between his horrible spelling and heavy drinking, they were ready to fire him on more than one occasion.  It was only due to the man's own whim to suddenly become a barber that he'd left on his own accord, and they'd parted on relatively friendly terms.  But Jules didn't believe in speaking ill of people that weren't present, so she kept this little detail to herself.  "We promised we'd take good care of his place, you see, so I don't think we should take anything else.  It's fine though, we've managed in worse setups than this."<br/><br/>She offered the two men the faintest of smiles, greatly softening her features and making her face almost akin to something pretty.  "The press was the heaviest thing, and the only thing we really need to be inside.  The rest can go on either the front or back porch, and I'll find a spot for it later.  But thank you again, both of you."  Jules quickly dropped her gaze and turned her back, feeling her face groing warm.  "I...I'd better go get some breakfast started.  I'll call when it's ready!"<br/><br/>The woman had already brought in their scanty foodstores: mostly dried beans and corn, some cornmeal and flour, a half-barrel of salt pork and a three-quarters empty bag of coffee.  As it turned out, there was a well directly behind the barbershop, and it wasn't long before the scent of cooking began to waft out the formerly desolate little building.  And by the time the wagon was finally empty, Jules emerged out the front, carrying plates of succotash and cornbread and tin mugs of coffee for everyone, with all the grace of an experienced waitress.<br/><br/>"Um...here.  I hope you like it," she murmured, offering each man a meal.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">*****<br/>​</div>Outside of town, Jess was not in nearly as high spirits as her sister.  She'd greatly underestimated the distance between the barbershop and the mine, and wished she'd had the mind to unhitch one of the damn horses and ride it up to the foreman's office.  Or at the very least, get a bite of breakfast before setting out.  By the time she reached her destination, she was hot, tired, and cross, and it took all her effort to flash a wan smile at the first man she saw.<br/><br/>"Good morning my good man!  Might the boss be around today?  I have a bit of--"<br/><br/>"An' who the hell you supposed to be?" the grizzled, long-faced miner snapped back at her.  His cold eyes looked her dusty, yet still relatively well-dressed form from top to bottom, and he spat on the ground at the corner of his mouth.<br/><br/>Jess swallowed hard.  "Miss Jessamine Barrow, sir," she replied in more reserved tones, her fingers fumbling for a card only to find she hadn't any more on her person.  "You see, I'm new in town, and I have some horses and a wagon to sell--"<br/><br/>"So sell 'em back in town.  We got real business to deal with here.  Ain't you heard we got nine men dead?"<br/><br/>Other women might have frozen at those words, maybe even fainted.  But if there was anything to revive Jessamine Barrow after a long hot walk, it was drama, disease, or death.  As if by magic her notebook was suddenly in her hand, and a sharpened pencil was gripped between her fingers.  "Dead?  How?  Was there a collapse?" she asked quickly.  But the man only spat at the ground again and brushed past her, heading glumly back to town to spread the news no doubt.  An angry little twinge of jealously pinched at the woman's heart, but the logical part of her quieted it with the reminder that the press probably wasn't even set up yet.  Besides, it was better to get the full story than the fast story, especially when the only competition in town was gossip.<br/><br/>So she quickened her pace in the direction of a small crowd of men at the mouth of the mine.  Most didn't notice her, and even those that didn't couldn't be shocked by the appearance of a woman on the scene.  Strange as her presence might have been, nothing could be stranger than the condition of the bodies.<i>Blood on mouths and hands; three missing arms, four missing legs; Youngest - 16?  Oldest - 50s?  #6 - Chest cavity broken, heart missing?</i>Jess filled two entire pages of her notepad with macabre scribbles regarding purely her own observances before she turned to the man nearest to her, ensuring the book was out of sight before she spoke.<br/><br/>"Excuse me sir."  Gone was all trace of the fast-talking conwoman.  Now her voice was soft, sympathetic, undoubtedly feminine and even a little frightened.  "Can you tell me what happened here?  My brother...I was told my brother worked in this mine.  I came all the way from Kansas City to surprise him..."  An ocean of crocodile tears filled her enlarged brown eyes.<br/><br/>"Oh lassie..." the man said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder.  "You'd best come see Mr. Jacobs, the foreman.  He can tell you the story."<br/><br/>"Th....thank you..." Jess sobbed, allowing him to lead her to the foreman's office.