At the man's nod, she has the presence of mind to curtsy slightly, as awkward as it may look in britches.

She takes a few steps back and lets the menfolk talk, like a good little preacher's wife. There will be plenty of time for beatings later.

"Oh, Tucker. I told you that you was gonna wake the dead, causin' all that fuss. You know you can't shoot for shit."



...Or, maybe she'll just give him hell right now.


She turns and smiles serenely at their visitor, careful not to give him too long to see her face. He looks shocked by the vulgarity, but Kate sweetly soldiers on.

"What's your name, friend?"

"Uh." He shifts in the saddle. "John. John Cole. It's a pleasure, ma'am."