She was persistent and stubborn, qualities that only tormented him. He almost turned towards the church, almost intent on making sure his beloved wife was still buried but he didn't. The Marshall sighed deeply, finding his only options to run away from her or hear her out. The first option would never happen but he slowed enough for her to catch up with him before he headed towards his office.<br/><br/><strong>"Somehow I feel your story would be better off with a shot of whiskey." </strong><br/>He offered, guiding her in before he stepped in and removed his hat revealing the tangle of sweat clung hair. The man walked across to the corner that held his desk and slipped into his chair before he gestured for the one across from him. Opening the drawer to his right he procured a bottle and two glasses, poured two and slid one forward before knocking his back.<br/><br/><strong>"This is not a promise I will help, but I like to know what is going on in my town." </strong><br/>Uther finally said, looking up at the female and waited for her to accept his subtle conditions.