Days Go By, Tag: Arrah

[Arrah Jennings]

It startled Arrah how Sharp reacted to her telling him about her own place. For a moment, she was put off. For the first time in her life she was independent and quite happy to be so. It could have been the fact that she had no one to try and play match-maker, or maybe because if she was on her own, there was no chance of her getting hurt by a loved one. Either way, she sat back and crossed her arms indignantly and she could feel her eyes narrowing as she stared across the table. His voice softened a bit when he spoke next, but she still couldn't help but feel affronted.

"Yes, I walk home every night." Her voice was measured, soft and serious. There was nothing mean in her tone. If it had to be labeled, she would have called it cautious. "I get off whenever I've finished my work. Usually 'round eightish, though nights like this I'm basically done." It was true that most nights she walked home either when the sun was sinking or when it was already dark. She only had a ten minute stroll, and had never run into any trouble as of yet. There were plenty of unsavory characters in town, and some nights she did feel a bit nervous as she got farther away from the main street of town, but her home was in sight of the main road and if she needed she could run through the one truly dark area she had to cross. It wasn't her favorite thing to do, but it was better than tying Rev up outside the Saloon all day in the summer sun. Maybe when the weather cooled down a little and the sun set sooner she would consider riding, but in her mind it was unnecessary.

"It's really only a short walk," she said, feeling herself relax a bit. After thinking about it, he probably did not mean to offend. Still, it stung a tiny bit knowing that he thought she couldn't take care of herself for a few minutes. "I'm not the same little girl you knew, Sharp." Her voice was soft, and tinged slightly with sadness. That, she acknowledged, was one hundred percent the truth. He had known a carefree, happy girl with ribbons in her curly hair. He was now sitting across from someone who had had to grow up faster than she should have so that she could escape and live her own life.

Nothing was as simple as it looked, and that included her now.

[James Sheffield]

Judging from her body language, it was evident that Sharp had offended Arrah. He hadn't meant to, really, it was just that he was concerned with her safety. And he would not be apologizing for that. He'd seen and heard of far too many bad people with worse intentions in his travels not to be at least somewhat worried for his friend's safety in this wild western town. He'd always had a soft spot the ladies and wished to serve as a protector whenever he could. It appeared Arrah was not too keen on this protecting business, as she seemed to be rather close to glaring daggers at him. She affirmed that she walked home each night, and got off whenever she was done.

"Whoa, I meant nothin' by it," Sharp said, holding his hands up, palms out, in a 'slow down' kind of gesture. He could still read Arrah well enough to know that a 'cautious' tone came very close to a mean one. Though she did seem to settle a little and even add that it wasn't a far walk. And then she said that she was not the same little girl that he'd once known. For some reason, that cut through him, kind of depressed him somewhat. She was right – he did not know this Arrah; and indeed, had he ever known the true Arrie? Sharp blinked, tilted his head to the side as he slowly lowered her hands to the tabletop, watching Arrah. His lips in a firm line, he contemplated trying to get to know this Arrah.

"Still. Jus' wantin' you t'be careful, that's all I meant." He said quietly, with a small shake of his head. He leaned back and stared another moment or two, before declaring, "Well, I'm thirsty, so...what does this Arrah like t'drink? I'll buy you one, providin' you can have some refreshments durin' your working hours?" Sharp inquired, raising an eyebrow and a teasing smile tugging heavily upon his lips.

[Arrah Jennings]

Arrah couldn't help but feel a little happy when Sharp raised his hands in "surrender." She was rarely confident enough to stand up and justify anything about herself, nonetheless make someone back down. It could have just been the fact that it was Sharp, someone she had know for years, or the fact that he made her feel insignificant with his remarks, but either way, her strange satisfaction with her tiny victory lasted only seconds. Only until he put his arms back down on the table.

It was then that he gave her a weird look. His lips were set in a straight line, and he was looking at her as if he didn't quite know her. It was an appraising sort of look, and Arrah did not like it at all. It made her feel as if she were fifteen all over again, and that was exactly what she was trying to escape. He was supposed to be the one person in Buffalo Creek Bay who knew her, who liked her, and the farther and farther on their little conversation went, the less and less she knew what he was thinking. She had used to be able to read him like a book, or at least she thought she had been able to, so now that he was so closed off to her, it frustrated the hell out of her. He was her friend, right? And now he was trying to be conciliatory and talk about her safety - bah! "If you wan' me to be so safe, why don't you just walk me home yerself," she muttered under her breath. Hopefully he wouldn't hear her, but if he did, who cared! She was working herself right into a little snit, and was perfectly happy to stay there. It was better than the borderline depression she had been in before.

Then he spoke of drinks. Of all the topics he could have moved onto, he chose the only one she had no idea about. Sure, she worked in a saloon, but she had only had alcohol one time in her life, and that was only a small sip of whiskey when she had gotten stuck outside in the snow as a child. "I don't drink," she snapped, instantly regretting her tone. She sighed and relaxed a little, knowing she was overreacting to something trivial. "That is," she began again, "I don't think itsa good idea for me to drink when I'm workin'. But, some iced tea or lemonade would be nice." This time her voice was soft and almost resigned. What was it that frustrated her so much about him worrying or wanting to buy her a drink? She glanced over at Sharp, trying to gauge his reaction to her little outburst.

[James Sheffield]

An arched eyebrow came upon his sharp ears catching her muttered saying, and a sort of muted amusement crossed his facial features. He glanced down at his hat, reaching forward and sliding it to the side on the tabletop a few inches, his glittering eyes focused upon Arrah once more as he quietly replied with, "Well, maybe I will." His air was of one trying to be somewhat annoying, perhaps the teasing older-brother type scenario. He was beginning to realize she didn't seem to care for his concern of her safety, so maybe he would just make it a point to appear every evening and walk with her the few steps it took to get to her home. It was a free country after all, right? He could just claim he was out for a walk, in this area, and happened to be going in the same direction as her. Every night.

When she snapped at him with the declaration that she did not drink, he sat back and raised both brows, in a 'uh-huh' sort of fashion. He was about to make some quip about her not even drinking water or lemonade, when she spoke up again. Sharp nodded, seeing her seem to deflate a little as she relaxed, then stood up without a word and went to the counter to get them some drinks. He came back within a few moments with an iced tea for Arrah and a beer for himself. He set the glass with her tea down before her, then reclaimed his own seat and leaned back, then stretched out his legs and propped his feet up on one of the non-occupied chairs.

He was silent for another moment or two as he sipped on his beer. And then, he lowered the mug a little to look over at Arrah and ask out of idle curiosity, "So, what d' y'all do for fun in this little town? Anything interesting ever happen?" His voice had a sort of playful, joking tone with the second question. He knew it wasn't all dull even in little towns, though sometimes the fun happenings could be few and far between.

[Arrah Jennings]

The slight relaxation just moments earlier disappeared for two reasons - one, his little remark about walking her home and two, the nonchalant way he just got up to get drinks.

His reply about possibly walking her home made her bristle. Yes, she had thought that if he heard he would laugh it off or make some comment that she could just brush off, but really?! Walk her home, every night from the saloon? No way. That was just not happening, and if she had to sneak out the back door of the kitchen just to avoid him and have her moments of solitude on her stroll home then she would! He was a lucky man that he got up and sauntered over to the bar to get the drinks or he may have ended up with a permanent boot print on his shin.

And on that note, Arrah couldn't help but admire Sharp as he walked over to the bar. It had been a long time, almost a year now, since she had really noticed a man. Sharp was doing a very good job at throwing her back into that mode not so gently. He had an air about him of ease, and she supposed that was what had drawn her to him four years ago as a young girl. He was the kind of guy that was comfortable himself. What attracted her now was a sense of familiarity and of course, his looks. He was tall, but not so tall as to intimidate Arrah. At five feet two inches, she was easily made to feel insignificant. He had a thick head of dark hair and expressive hazel eyes, and the way he walked just drew her eye. It made her kick herself mentally, knowing from experience that nothing good ever came from men, no matter how nice to look at.

When he came back she had plastered a smile on her face. It wasn't exactly fake because she enjoyed his company, but it didn't quite meet her eyes either. "Well, in a few weeks we're auctionin' off some of the men of the town as lunch dates," she replied, this time really smiling. She had been drawn into the scheme simply by working at the saloon. She saw basically all of the men up for auction and had decided that going to bid on someone and to get a good meal and decent conversation wouldn't be half bad. "Other than that there are some dances, town gatherings, and just everyday life." It was no city, and not even close to Independence, but she liked it. Things here felt welcoming and almost like one big, very strange, family. "It's quaint."

[James Sheffield]

"Auctionin' off the men?" Sharp repeated, his voice raised in a disbelieving sort of town, his brow raised and then pinched in curiosity. He shifted in his chair, sinking down a little lower and gazing at the ceiling with a thoughtful look. "Too bad I prob'ly missed the deadlines for that...sure might'a been nice, havin' a pretty lady t'talk to," he paused, glancing at Arrah, probably looking to push her buttons even more (consciously or unconsciously remains to be seen) as he went on to say, "an' share a meal, or drink, with." Poor Sharp was probably either gonna have a bum leg or a concussion by the end of this. Even though she was one of the most beautiful creatures he'd honestly ever beheld, he still tried to think of her as a little sister he had to protect.

So who was he to contradict if she somehow got the idea that according to him she wasn't, 'a pretty lady t'talk to'? For some reason, he did love causing trouble. Or else he loved to see Arrah angered. She looked cute when she was mad, what could he say...

Sharp nodded as she went on to explain some else of what went on in this little town. Dances and gatherings, to be expected. And then another thought occurred to him, and he tried valiantly to hide the exact depth of his curiosity, tried to pass off his question as one of idleness. It almost worked. "So uh, were you...gonna be buyin' up any guys in the auction thing?" He let a moment's pause pass them by before he posed his next question. He tossed his head a little, still giving an air of indifference and idle curiosity. "Dances, eh? Ya ever had a dancin' partner at one 'a those?" Surely, a pretty girl like her, someone here must've asked her to dance a time or two. Or else he'd wonder at the sanity of these people.

[Arrah Jennings]

Growing up in a family of girls, especially as a younger sibling, Arrah had never been prone to violence. Sure, there had been times where hair-pulling and pinching had been involved, but she had never wanted to just smack someone like she did right then. She tried to make herself relax, sipping her tea, but he knew how to irritate her. She listened to his snark comments about the auction, all the while trying to figure out just how to get him back for them. She spied the legs he had propped up on on of the extra chairs at the table and got an idea. She set her tea down and leaned forward, a sickly sweet smile on her lips. Setting her chin in her hand, she inched her own feet towards the chair. "Sadly, the deadlines have passed," she replied, her foot now edging around the leg of the chair. "Not so sadly," she then added, pulling the seat sharply towards herself so that his legs would flop to the ground and put him in an awkwardly stretched out position, "no lady will have to put up with you for an afternoon."

She leaned back then with a smile on her face like that of a cat that got into the milk. Arrah picked up her tea again and sipped delicately at it, as though she were the most innocent girl in the world. That certainly was an act that she had perfected, as no one ever thought that she could have done any wrong growing up. She was always the good girl, the sweet flower who was sheltered and babied. For a while it had meant she was the chosen one in her home, but in the end it had all backfired on her. Her naivety had cost her her heart and her life. That girl was long gone, and she felt a bit of pride in that. She could take care of herself, and that included not needing Sharp to look out for her on her walk home at night.

"And yes," she answered in response to his question as to whether she was planning on buying a man at the auction, "I do plan on buying the company of a man at the auction." In all honesty, up to that point she wasn't sure she would have the guts to actually bid on anything. Now she had a challenge, and there was no way that Sharp was gonna win. It was this line of thought that made her overlook the obvious probing that he was doing. Even when he asked about dance partners, she didn't notice. "Actually," she said, a little embarrassed by what she was about to say, "I haven't gone to any dances yet." She knew that she could have lied and said she had had dozens of partners and had danced into the early hours of the morning with a wonderful man and had fallen in love, but for some reason she couldn't. She didn't want him to know just how pathetic she had been, but lying to Sharp seemed wrong somehow. It was like lying to herself. Desperate to get the questions off her her she shot back at him. "What about you? Meet any ladies at any dances about your travels?"