<hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f0/Marguerite_Tuerny02.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Marguerite Tuerny<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 3, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Early Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Main Street<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Nathan Hunter, Open<br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/87/Victorian_Travel_Dress.jpg)</div>The rancher at Vigilance was a fine man, and insisted they take one of his horses for the trip into town.  Evelyn would see they got the animal back, and Marguerite had a difficult time forcing the man to accept payment.  Her small poke was empty after the exchange of a pair of silver dollars, but she was sure she could get by.  After all Nathan was a real gentleman, and theoretically she was a mine owner.  She was sure she could leverage that into credit.  And if that failed...<br/><br/>It wouldn't fail!  She wasn't going to allow it to fail  She was going to succeed.  On her own, without a man to protect and provide.  A tall order, as she had always leaned on a man.  Some men stood tall and provided good support, others had failed her.  Now it was time to stand on her own.<br/><br/>They didn't have a side-saddle, but she as able to make do with the saddle-horn and a strap of leather to take a decent and acceptably comfortable seat.  She rode well, and while the horse wasn't as fine as Nathan's big black stud she still managed to keep up.  They chatted whenever the road allowed them to ride abreast, and she absorbed everything she could about Nathan, the town, and the local powers that be.  If she was going to claim her mine, then she needed to know who might be an ally, who might be against her, and just what the dangers were.  She had no plans to stay in Gomorra once she secured her inheritance.  But it was not in her plans to be penniless ever again. Anyone that stood in the way of that was her enemy, and she'd learned how one treated their enemies here in the West.<br/><br/>Nathan had a lot to say, and he was a clever, entertaining conversationalist as well as an accomplished jurist.  Quite a man, she noted.  And with all his accomplishments and skills, still a gentleman.  If only he didn't know about her recent past...  A silly notion to be sure.  He might want to accept what she was - what she had been - but what man could truly forget such a thing?<br/><br/>The light conversation and self-deprecating musings ended when they arrived at the oddly named  'Alright Corral.  The man Evelyn was pleasant enough - though he smelled of horse and tobacco.  But his news was shocking.  She didn't know Sheriff Coleman, except that Nathan talked of him quite a lot and always in glowing terms.  A man Nathan respected, the local lawman, and murdered in his own office.  What kind of town had she come to?<br/><br/><strong>"Certainly."</strong>She accepted his offer of escort, taking his arm as they navigated the dubious bridge.  You had to cross that to get into town?  Just what kind of place was this?  She thought again.<br/><br/><strong>"Coleman."</strong>She spoke as they crossed the treacherous bridge.  She was quite unabashedly clinging to him, hanging off his strong frame in unladylike manner.<strong>"From what you said about him - this is bad, isn't it?"</strong>She didn't want to distract him, either from the important news that could affect the very destiny of the town, or more urgently from his precarious footing, but she did want to distract herself!<br/><br/>She let go of him once they made their way into the dusty main street.  Now that she was on solid ground, the place seemed almost normal - at least normal in the Western fashion.  A busy beehive of a place, filled with a buildings of assorted quality and architecture.  At least one building was obviously a hotel - the style of it proclaiming function even without the advertisement of the sign flapping in the gusty wind.  And that solid building over there had to be a bank.  Gomorra wasn't Denver, but it wasn't merely a coach stop either.<br/><br/>