Irene looked over the saloon.  There weren't many patrons and the ones there mostly nursed their drinks.  She'd have to roust them if they didn't drink up.  She was feeling a bit touchy at having missed an opportunity the previous night.  It wasn't often a clue walked into the saloon and danced around in front of her, giving her every reason to ---  to what? Throw a shot glass at it? she thought, disgusted with her fear of guns.<br/><br/>Maybe if she shot one...  Cameron had a gun on her saddle.  And, the girl was friendly enough.  Maybe she'd be willing to give her a lesson.  Or, maybe not.  The girls tended to share information and she wasn't so sure she wanted word to get out she was taking up target practice after three men showed up and riled her.  If they turned up dead, well, it wouldn't take a genius to add two and two.<br/><br/>She wiped the bar down, made a pass through the tables with a grin towards the Marshall's vacant seat.  Guinevara was a brave woman, she mused.