With a price

“Ah'm just sayin… Ye got three good women o’ workin age here. A man in your position shouldn't let any opportunity go to waste.”

Bill's initial burst of rage and indignation at the stranger's implication… had been stymied somewhat by how quickly the other two mens’ hands had moved towards their gunbelts. Suddenly the air in the bar didn't seem quite so cordial. Mr Powell felt distinctly like a rat in a trap, staring into the cold, blue eyes of the gentleman who still had a hand upon his wife's breast. Things had gotten very dangerous, very quickly; he could tell. Yet the calm, soliciting tone of this older man hadn't changed at all. Clearly this was all in a day's work for him.

“What… did you have in mind?” Offered Lucy, in her most disarmingly charming voice. Finally cutting through the tense and heavy silence that had settled over all of them.

The stranger she was sat upon the lap of smiled congenially, as if glad someone was finally seeing sense.

“Oh, nothing so much… Just a bit o’ mouthwork for me an’ the boys. Ta send us on our way wit’ a skip in our step, so ta speak.”

He winked conspiratorially at this, as if to show they were all still friends and this wasn't really too much to ask as a favour.

“Now hold on a minute-!” Began Bill, though not really sure what he was going to follow it up with. There was a shotgun hung in the pantry… but he'd never get to it in time for it to be of any use. Besides… Lucy was the only one able to hit the wide side of a barn with such a tool. He'd never had much stomach for learning how to harm other folks.

“Now, now dear… Let's not be hasty…” Interjected his good lady wife in her most sweetly authoritative tones. “You have been looking for more ways that me and our girls can help out around here…”

She said this with serene surety. As though there really was not much difference between what this ‘guest’ was asking and their usual struggles in finding work for two bored teens around a perpetually empty saloon. However Mr Powell did finally pick up on what Lucy had noted and he hadn’t: the man thought both Jane and Sam were female. Would the situation grow even worse if he realised his mistake?

“I'm afraid our younguns ain't had much practice of such things though, sir… Wouldn't you prefer if I took care of all three of ya?”

Mrs Powell wore a smile with all the radiance of the sun, graciously stepping up to deflect attention away from her adult offspring. But that attention was not so easy to assuage; the other two men had already stood up and taken hold of a Powell each, rough hands gripping loosely… for now.

“Well… Tha’ makes this as good a time as any fer some learning!” Grinned their leader, giving the woman upon his knee an encouraging slap on the ass to migrate her way downwards. While motioning for her cornered offspring to do the same.

“Ah’ve always felt it wuz good f’r a mother to give her cubs a practical edukay-shun. You show em how, an I’m sure they’ll follow along…”

Back at the bar, Bill could only watch on in horror as all three of his loved ones were lined up, knees to hard floor. A lump forming in his throat as he listened to the jingle of the strangers loosening their belts. Yet Lucy kept on smiling, that calm and comforting grin. Their adult children watching her for any hints of how to proceed. The father of the household realised they knew as much as he did: he wasn’t the one who was going to get them through this situation.