<em><strong>Morning of Day Three - - Irene O’Rourke’s room</strong></em><br/><br/>He saw it in her eyes . . . a kind of finality to her past perhaps . . . Sam was going to do whatever he could to resolve her past.  He grabbed the dishes and loaded up the tray.  Irene helped him before she flew around the room gathering bed and bath linen to carry down.<br/><br/>He grinned as she told him what he already knew . . . where the kitchen was.  He opened the door and hefted the tray through it and toward the stairs.  It wasn’t a very difficult task, but the tray blocked his view of the stairs and he did not make a headfirst entrance to the saloon.  He nodded in agreement to Irene, repeating the plan smiling back at her.<br/><br/>“Out in front in ten minutes . . . I’ll be there.”<br/><br/><strong><em>==&gt; down to the saloon . . . </em> </strong><br/><br/>He made it to the kitchen without injury.  The cook grinned at him with her hands on her hips nodding in the direction of the dish washing sink.  She watched him the entire time, scanning him up and down.  He grinned and blushed from the scrutiny.  She seemed to be Irene’s surrogate mother in the way she was giving him the ‘eye.’<br/><br/>Sam was feeling pretty happy and confident as he walked toward her.  He took notice that she had nothing in her hands, though there were kitchen knives on the counter behind her.  Sam walked up to her with his hands open at his sides.  He cupped the older woman’s face and kissed her.  “Muchas gracias senora.…it fue todo muy bien.”<br/><br/>The cook grinned and covered her mouth with her hands and laughed heartily as Sam tipped his hat and exited into the saloon.  It was a small quiet group standing at the bear and at a few of the tables.  Sam didn’t waste anytime as he moved through the big room toward the front of the building.  He stepped out onto the street and surveyed the town from that vantage point while he waited for Irene.<br/><br/><strong><em>==&gt; out into the town</em></strong>