Fetching Lewt

[Tully]

Standing outside the batwing doors, Tully stared into the saloon, working up the courage to step inside. While she had a good deal of moxie, she wasn't one to frequent such places and she knew the caliber of men who did. But finally she took a deep breath and stepped into the dark, smoky room.

Almost immediately there were rude cat-calls, ranging from insults to come-ons. Ignoring them as best she could, Tully headed toward the bar only to be stopped by a man who grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward him.

"Hey, gal, ya lookin' fer some fun? I can give ya all ya want." The man's breath smelled of stale alcohol and tobacco, and she recoiled away.

"Let me be!" Tully gave him a shove, sending him sprawling, much to the amusement of his companions, who surrounded her, goading her and pawing at her. On the verge of panic, she tried to pull away. "LEMME BE!" she repeated, pulling out her knife and waving it around. "I'm lookin' fer Lewt Conley, that's all!"

While she wasn't much to look at, there was a desperate fear in her stance, but also a defiant obstinace...

[Lewt McConnell]

Lewton wasn’t particularly accustomed to being called after by a stranger who had just walked through the doors of the Blackbird Saloon. In fact, he had been studying his hand of cards so carefully he hadn’t observed the curly haired blonde wander into the room. Slapping down a card on the fissured wooden table he looked up, noticing observant looks of the “regular” gamblers around the table. Their brows seemingly knitted closely together in a estranged concern. Lewton shook his head and exhaled a long, dreary breath. “What will it be, ol’ Roberto.” Before the Hispanic man across the table could respond they all took notice to the struggling woman nearby the bar. Despondently, Lewton watched the woman struggle.

Interested they all watched her pull a knife on the men that were surrounding her. He watched her brisk, smooth swiping movements towards the men. ‘Lewton Conely’ was certainly a new one he hadn’t heard before. Perhaps, his favorite mistaken version of his name. Not many individuals in the territory of Texas were even named Lewton. He looked around at the table to the individuals around him. “Ain’t Lewton Conley, darlin’.” Lewt exclaimed, his voice boisterous across the room.

“Well, I’m goin’ t’ have to fold, gentlemen. The lil’ lady is callin’ me.” He stood, tossing his cards on the table. He was quick to make his way across the room. The men surrounding the dainty woman turned their heads wryly in his direction. Some who knew him backed off. A couple remained. “Leave her be.” Straight faced, the men laughed. Quickly he rested his hands on his colt’s pearl handles. The men backed off.

“First off. My name ain’t Lewton Conely, curls. McConnell.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’ worry none, ya can put yer knife away. I ain’t gone cause no ruckus, anyhow.” He motioned towards her sharp-bladed knife. “Is there a reason t’ why ya ar’ lookin’ for me?”

[Tully]

Tully eyed the man warily for a moment before resheathing her knife and shrugging. "Mr. McConnell," she amended, "sorry...I...uh, I got a message for ya." She kept he voice low as she spoke, looking the man in the eye. "Can't talk 'bout it here, though...will ya go outside with me?" She straightened her shoulders. "'Less yer afraid?"

[Lewt McConnell]

Lewton watched the small framed woman in front of him with subtle curiosity. It wasn’t every day an individual came searching for him the midst of the Blackbird Saloon. He smiled at the young woman before him as she spoke. “Well, I’m sorry to say ma’am I’m taken if that’s wha’ ya ar’ interested in.” He exclaimed sarcastically. His eyes seemingly lighting up with apparent humor. He shook his head as she challenged him. “I ain’t ‘fraid none. Let’s go.”

Quickly he made his way out through the open doors of the Saloon, briefly looking over his shoulder as he stood on the open boardwalk. “Well. What is it?”

[Tully]

Tully snorted when he said he was taken...as if she was interested! Tossing her head, she led him out the front and stopped to the side of the entrance.

“Well. What is it?”

"Well, ya see, there's..." And it occurred to her that she didn't know the kid's name...he hadn't told her, or if he had, she sure couldn't remember! "Um...a friend'a yers...scrawny cuss, good shot, mean..." She kept her voice low, kept her distance, but looked the man in the eye. "He's in jail an' he said ta fetch ya." She grinned. "Reckon he don't fancy hangin'..."

[Lewt McConnell]

It was apparent that Lewt’s expression changed from humored to surprised. His bright blue eyes widened as she spoke and he looked away. Hell, wasn’t the first time this had happened with one of the gang members. Some jail systems appeared to be more elite than other ones. Fortunately, for Lewton and the rest Del Fuego’s jail was just a concrete fort with barred windows. Almost immediately he started planning. He would be damned if he left him to rot in that cell, just waiting for the day he’d die. He couldn’t do that to Jeremiah. It seemed the young man had done too much good for the Les Coureur Enfers. Exhaling, he looked back and studied the woman carefully. She could very well be a hoax. He could never be too sure when it came down to it. He’d seen it before, the law planting their secretive tricks just to snatch the most wanted. “I thin’ I know who ya are talkin’ ‘bout. First o’ all, how in the hell did he get caught?” He’d just have to take his chances.

He knew that the law in Del Fuego was not of the most strategic. Hell, they went through sheriffs faster than he could blink. He loosened his jaw. “I’m gone have to think this one out careful. When is he hangin’?

[Tully]

“I thin’ I know who ya are talkin’ ‘bout. First o’ all, how in the hell did he get caught?” He’d just have to take his chances.

"Praise God there ain't another'a him," Tully muttered under her breath, then she looked at the man and shrugged. "Dunno...he wouldn't say what he done, I just seen th' sheriff haulin' 'im off ta jail."

He knew that the law in Del Fuego was not of the most strategic. Hell, they went through sheriffs faster than he could blink. He loosened his jaw. “I’m gone have to think this one out careful. When is he hangin’?"

"Dunno..." She shrugged again. "Guess he might not, he wouldn't tell me what he done." She started across the street toward the jail. "Just tol' me ta come fetch you, so I did." She actually wasn't sure why she was helping, it wasn't like she owed the kid anything, but...well, here she was. Once this task was done, she'd go about her way, find something to eat and maybe a new hat without a hole in it!

[Lewt McConnell]

Lewton exhaled a long, drawn out sigh. His eyes narrowed towards the distance where the jailhouse was tucked away in an unseen corner of the town. He hesitated as he demised a plan. His blonde brows furrowed as he concentrated for moments at a time on what he was going to do. He was to wait till midnight, when the locals were surely rested. “Would you help a feller out?” He focused on her. “T’ distract the deputies an’ such. Ain’t a hard task to do. Just…look nice.” He flashed her a wry smile as he considered how she could manage to help. He shrugged. “Jerry needs ya help.” He drawled.

“Meanwhile, the men an’ us wi’ break through the barred windows an’ git him out.”

[Tully]

Tully looked at the man for a moment, silent, assessing, then she nodded. "All right, I'll do what I can ta help. So, ya gonna tell 'im he's gotta stew in there 'till midnight? Don't reckon as he's gonna be very happy with it." She shrugged, then stuck out her hand. "Name's Tully Nevada..."