From: char@chaffin.com   
      
   ROCKY MOUNTAIN INTERLUDE, Chapter Five   
   By Char Chaffin and Tess   
   MSR, Casefile, AU   
   Rating:  Strong R   
   Spoilers:  FTF, Most of Season Seven   
   Feedback:  to Tnv099@aol.com; char@chaffin.com   
      
   Headers and summary, see Part 1   
      
      
      
      
      
   Chapter Five   
   Millersburg, Colorado   
      
      
   It was just past noon when Thomas Weston pulled back on the reins   
   and eased the wagon to a halt.  He set the brake and both men swung   
   out of the wagon and helped the women to the ground.   
      
   "Kate and I will get the things we need from the store," Libby   
   Weston told her husband as she reached into the back of the wagon for   
   the two large baskets she had stowed there earlier.   
      
   "Well now, that sounds fine."  The reverend patted her hand and   
   escorted her up onto the wooden sidewalk that ran past several small   
   businesses.  "We'll meet you back here in a couple of hours?"   
      
   "Oh, yes.  That should give us plenty of time to buy all the things   
   we need."  She turned to see Will brush a kiss against the corner of   
   his wife's mouth.   
      
   "Go on with you now, young man," she admonished.  "There's work that   
   needs doing."  She handed one basket to Scully and drew the younger   
   woman toward the general store.   
      
   Mulder stood in the dirt street and watched the two women walking   
   away.  He turned suddenly at the sound of the minister's voice.   
      
   "Come along, Will.  My Libby will take good care of your pretty   
   bride." He clapped a hand on Mulder's shoulder.  "I'll introduce you   
   around town and we'll see what we can do about finding you some good,   
   honest work."   
      
   ************   
      
   Scully trailed hesitantly into the store in Libby Weston's wake.   
   The mercantile could best be described as organized chaos.  One large   
   room housed all of the necessities for frontier living. Shelves   
   brimming with dry goods and groceries were mounted on every available   
   wall.  Bolts of cloth spilled across a table at one end of the room.   
   A nearby shelf housed bobbins of thread, boxes of needles, straight   
   pins and various sewing notions.  Hammers, saws and other tools were   
   displayed on hooks driven into the walls.  Candles and cast iron   
   cookware, oil for lamps, rakes, shoes and brooms, tobacco and   
   suspenders all vied for space on the crowded shelves.   
      
   Libby paused in her march across the room to reach out and catch   
   Scully's hand in her own.  "This way, Kate," she murmured. "I'll   
   introduce you to the store owner."  She tugged the younger woman   
   toward the far end of the store.   
      
   "Silas!" she called.  A man turned from stocking canned goods onto a   
   shelf behind the counter.  He had dark hair, liberally sprinkled with   
   threads of silver, and lively green eyes.  Scully judged him to be in   
   his early fifties.   
      
   "Mrs. Weston," he greeted her warmly and climbed down from the   
   ladder on which he had been perched.  "What can I get for you today?   
   I've got a sale on sugar - five cents off a five pound sack."   
      
   "Well, that sounds dandy, Silas.  And I am running low on sugar.   
   But first, I want you to meet someone."  She drew Scully forward.   
   "This is Kate Mulder.  She and her husband, Will, are new to town."   
   She patted Scully's hand once before letting go.  "Kate, I'd like you   
   to meet Silas Cranston. He's the owner of this store and a dear   
   friend to both the Reverend and me."   
      
   "Mr. Cranston."  Scully reached out a hand to shake his.  "It's nice   
   to meet you."   
      
   The shopkeeper seemed a bit startled with her forthrightness but he   
   recovered quickly and wiped his hands on his apron.  "It's surely my   
   pleasure."  Leaning over the counter, he folded her hand between both   
   of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.   
      
   "Well, what can I do for you ladies?" he asked as he released her   
   hand.   
      
   "The Mulders were on their way to Denver when their stage was robbed."   
      
   He stepped out from behind the counter.  "Robbed!"   
      
   Libby nodded emphatically.  "Yes, robbed!  And the thieves took   
   everything these folks had to their name, except the clothes on their   
   backs," she confided.   
      
   Struggling against the urge to roll her eyes, Scully instead let her   
   head fall forward in what she hoped was a despairing pose and   
   listened as the conversation between the two townsfolk rolled on.   
      
   "The Mulders are going to be staying at the Nulty place, for now."   
      
   "I don't know, Libby."  Silas shook his head.  "What if the Nultys   
   come back?  They might not be too happy to find squatters on their   
   land!"   
      
   Suddenly anxious to exclude herself from the conversation, Scully   
   stepped away from the others and began to examine small bottles of   
   cough syrup and other medical supplies that were grouped together at   
   one end of the shop's main counter.  Curious, she uncorked a bottle   
   labeled 'cold medicine' and took a cautious sniff of the yellow   
   liquid inside.  Tears sprang to her eyes and she instinctively jerked   
   her head back and looked down at the label.   
      
   "Cures what ails you," she read softly.  Judging by the fumes,   
   alcohol was the main ingredient.  It was an easy guess that while the   
   'medicine' wouldn't likely cure anyone of a cold, it would sure go a   
   long way toward helping a patient not to care.  She jammed the   
   stopper back into the bottle and studying the label of another   
   bottle; then reluctantly turned back to the conversation going on   
   behind her.   
      
   "Tsk!" Libby was wagging a finger in the shopkeeper's face.  "I'm   
   sure Jenny and Ben will be happy to know that someone is taking care   
   of their property."   
      
   Silas shrugged.  "If you think it's best, Libby."   
      
   Libby beamed at him.  "Precisely!"  She lifted the basket in her   
   hands.  "We're here for some basic supplies to get them started   
   keeping house."   
      
   The shopkeeper folded his arms across his chest.  "Who's gonna pay   
   for all these... supplies?" he wondered gruffly.  He dropped his   
   voice to a whisper. "I thought you said that everything they owned   
   was stolen by the stage robbers.  I ain't running a charity and you   
   don't know 'em well enough to be loaning them money."   
      
   Scully knotted her fingers together until the knucklebones showed   
   white through her skin. The truth was that until they could find   
   their way back home, they were dependent on the kindness and charity   
   of others to survive.  She struggled to maintain the posture of what   
   she imagined would be that of a demure lady of the nineteenth   
   century.  Inside she was squirming with a feeling of helplessness   
   that was unwelcome and frustrating.   
      
   "Silas Cranston!" Libby Weston admonished.  "Is that any way to   
   greet a newcomer?"  She shook her head angrily.  "Why, you'll have   
   Mrs. Mulder believing that Millersburg is an inhospitable town!"   
      
   "Now, Libby..." He held his hands up in front of his chest in a   
   defensive posture.  "I was only..."   
      
   "You were only being rude!"  Libby took a deep breath. "I'm   
   embarrassed, to be sure.  Here I've been telling these young folks   
   about what a nice town this is and you..."   
      
   The indignant Libby broke off in a gulp when Scully laid a hand on   
   her arm.  "It's all right, Mrs. Weston."   
      
   Dana Scully had spent a lifetime forcing people to look past her   
   gender by using her intellect, education and experience to get what   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)