Catherine shook her head, saddened at the look of the boy in front of her.  For, he was really just out of adolescence and still a boy. He was also a very frightened boy with a hatchet in his hand who was very likely to panic.  Fear did strange things to people.  Some it hardened and sharpened into fine steel and others seemed to fall apart.  He was the falling apart type, she was certain.  Though she was here as a legitimate customer, one of them could get hurt rather badly, mostly likely him and that would mean no saddle.<br/><br/>"I'm no enemy.  I'm a friend," she said softly, ducking sideways to avoid a possible swing from the weapon in his hand and coming into the light, both hands raised before her.<br/><br/>"And a customer."<br/><br/>She took another step forward into the light.<br/><br/>"I apologize for the late hour of my visit, but Jacobs down the street, and by way of him, Liam, sent me to you.  I need a saddle."<br/><br/>She waited, every nerve ending active and ready to disarm him should he make the wrong move.<br/>