<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Avery Burnam<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dogs (1)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 11th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Nathan Hunter’s House<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>End Scene (for Avery)<br/><hr/><br/>"The house?  No, not mine.  My place isn't quite suitable for guests, but you'll be fine here.  Miss Hendricks will see to you," Avery explained patiently, taking the glass and setting it aside.  He also took a moment to scoop up her wayward hat again, which had again found its way to the floor, a natural inclination it seemed, one perhaps accounting for the layer of dust it wore.  Placing it on the coffee table, he turned to find Letty loosening her braids, releasing her thick brown tresses to flow gently over her slender shoulders.  It did something rather intriguing to her face…but these were not thoughts to be contemplating before carrying a drunk woman to bed.  Or perhaps they were, just not this drunk woman, not this bed, not this night.<br/><br/>Still Avery's gaze lingered just a little longer than was strictly necessary before he cleared his throat.  "Right.  A bed.  I fear the previous owner hid them all upstairs just to spite us, so we'll have another little jaunt.  If you start feeling tipsy, grab hold of the banister, alright?"  As opposed to say, his lapels, the thought of being found a few hours hence by Hendricks at the bottom of the stairwell with a broken neck not the way he wanted to end this already tragically ridiculous evening.   Sacrificing a dollar and a few hours to preserve a ranch hand's reputation should be enough to gain him entrance to heaven; full on martyrdom would be pushing it.<br/><br/>He waited while Letty extracted herself from the settee, offering a steadying hand only when it looked as though she was about to tumble back into it, and start the whole process anew.  The stairs proved something of a trial and error process, but the walk from Babel's seemed to have restored some of the girl's awareness and sense of balance.  They managed to make it to the top before a misstep occurred, her foot stumbling over the final step, causing him to loop his arm around her waist.  With her body pressed warmly against his own, Avery was left suddenly very aware of the womanly shape beneath that roughspun dress.  Fortunately, the bedrooms were directly ahead, and so, removing his arm, he decided to divest himself of her in the very first and be done with it at last.<br/><br/>"There you go," Avery said once she was seated on the edge of it.  "Nice and comfy.  We best get your boots…Miss Hedricks probably wouldn't appreciate your wearing them to bed…women being rather funny about that sort of thing."  He knelt down to help pull them free, placing them at the foot of the bed.  "And I'm afraid that's it for me.   An interesting evening to be sure.  Good night, Miss Sanchez.  You‘ll feel better in the morning."  Well, not exactly 'better' perhaps, but different anyways.  The ride back home would likely be an ordeal in and of itself.   Returning her to the ranch would be Ms. Hendricks concern though.  Playing the gallant wasn't<em>that</em>habit forming.<br/><br/>Softly shutting the door, Avery quietly headed back downstairs.  He took a moment to neaten up, returning the glass to the kitchen and snuffing out the lamps he'd lit, before he wandered back into Hunter's office.  The Englishman had a more thorough look around this time, finding himself curious about the man who'd lived here.  The judge seemed to hold Hunter in high regard, and he rather doubted he'd find such a careful setup in, say, Bilton's or Templeton's house.  A row of well-oiled firearms in a gun rack was likely their idea of how a law man prepared himself.  It wasn't the land that was savage, so much as the men who came to it, Avery was finding.<br/><br/>Taking hold of a sheet of stationary and an inkwell that was not yet dry, he removed his jacket and began to write in neat careful script.<br/><br/><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Miss Sanchez,<br/><br/>I hope the morning finds you refreshed and in renewed spirits.  You may discover the events of last evening grown hazy with the new day but needn’t worry for neither your reputation nor virtue shall find any cause for alarm.  The free refreshment at Babel Tower merely proved of stronger vintage than you are apparently accustomed but Miss Hendricks was kind of enough to allow you the use of a bed for the night to recover.  Feel no embarrassment, for it is a forgivable offense nearly all have fallen prey to at some time, and no harm has resulted.  <br/><br/>“If to her share some errors fall/Look on her face, you’ll forget them all.”  <br/><br/>Fancifully yours,<br/>A. </span></span></em><br/><br/>He waited until the ink dried then folded it up, tucking the note into the brim of Letty's hat before letting himself out the front door.  The moon had already risen in the night's sky and Avery studied it for a moment from the magnificent view afforded by the house's porch.  An entire evening wasted.  He could return to Babel's but there was no way he’d find a good table now.  The easy money was doubtless already being siphoned into the pockets of men far cagier and less soft hearted than himself.  Straightening his hat and jacket, he found himself not feeling as bad as all that though.  There was even a slight smile on his face as Avery stepped down the porch. "Doo-dah," he mouthed.  "Hmf."<br/>