He's young. Even if he ain't but a few years younger than Kate, he looks like a colt: wobbly-footed; stern of face; body twitching like this new thing called air might decide to attack at any minute.
She takes a slow draw off her whiskey, catching his eye over the rim of her glass. Her gaze cuts into him, a soundless blue calm down over the din of the saloon.
The tender drops off clean glasses with a stilted nod and grin, eyes decidedly too far south to be looking at Kate's face. She thanks him, pleasant, and waits until he moves off again to address the table.
"Anything'll do, Mr. Lehane. Though, Jim'll hafta get an eye on 'em, see what he thinks. If all goes smooth, we shouldn't have anythin' t'worry about. There's two more men comin', then we can talk business."
no subject
She takes a slow draw off her whiskey, catching his eye over the rim of her glass. Her gaze cuts into him, a soundless blue calm down over the din of the saloon.
The tender drops off clean glasses with a stilted nod and grin, eyes decidedly too far south to be looking at Kate's face. She thanks him, pleasant, and waits until he moves off again to address the table.
"Anything'll do, Mr. Lehane. Though, Jim'll hafta get an eye on 'em, see what he thinks. If all goes smooth, we shouldn't have anythin' t'worry about. There's two more men comin', then we can talk business."