The pale green dress hugged her figure far too close, the fabric brushed against her breasts and pushed them far too high for her liking, molding to her figure and causing her nipples to peak at the material. She was simply glad the neckline was high and that nothing was visible otherwise, no matter that it was clear as day that no brassiere held her bosom in place. When back in the kitchen again she began to prepare food for a casserole, it would be simple and effortless to make and now that he had also allowed her to wear one of his wives old gowns, she felt almost obligated. As she worked away silently she didn't look up when he entered again but at his question about her gun work she paused for a moment.<br/><br/><strong>"Steady" </strong>was all she replied before an audible humph resounded from  her,<strong>"its my way of saying thank you and nothing more, I'll make sure the dress is washed and aired before I leave."</strong><br/><br/>Why she had even bothered to put it on mystified her, was she trying to play at house now? Trying to recapture a memory long since dead? Sarah glanced over to him and noticed his looking at her, figuring it must be strange too for him. A woman cleaning and cooking in his house while wearing one of his wives dresses! The absurdity of the situation gripped her and she moved first as if she would pick up the coffee pot but then thought better of it. She wasn't here to play house wife, she wasn't here to cook or clean for any man! Her man was dead, her child was dead and this felt as if she were betraying them somehow.<br/><strong><br/>"This is ridiculous ... I'll get my own clothes" </strong>she blurted out moving to pass the table and the Marshal to head to the room to change again.