After their meal, Irene felt restless.  She felt like she was being watched and not by Sam, not in a good way.  HOwever, no one seemed to be paying her any more attention than ever.<br/><br/>Being a bossy woman, Irene hauled Sam out of the restaurant and back up the hill towards the Saloon, skirting it to head to the stables.<br/><br/>"I feel..." she didn't know how to describe the aggitated feeling that had come over her.  "I feel like we need to get away a bit," she said, moving past Diablo's stall to the stall of a white horse with small liver colored spots over his entire body.  She slid a bridle onto the horse and used a mounting block to climb up and sit bareback.  She always hated the proper skirt for sidesaddle and, if she wasn't wearing the damned skirt, she may as well go whole heathen and ride astride.<br/><br/>When Sam was ready, Irene nodded and sent her mount into a trot out of town.<br/><br/>((we should probably move to the other room...since I've fucked up our location for a while, here))