Welcome

[Musiclover]

Plot- Ok, so I was thinking that this mysterious stranger rolls into town, and not to much long after, the town is raided by a band of Indians and the townspeople all like, blame him and are all like "Rawr, you're evil!"
So he leaves, but they attack again, and...oh...say....kidnap the chick that he ended up liking from the town and he finds out and has to try and rescue her?

Smokey eyes scanned the small town from where he stood on the hill. Well, if you could call that a town. Most of the buildings were still being brought up. In the distance he could see houses with farm animals already being lived in. In a few short years that sleepy little town would be more than half its size, that, he knew for sure, was a fact.

Blossom Hills was what they were calling it. A quaint little name actually, it fit the place well. On the west side of the town, a large hill sloped upward, covered in wild flowers. Even a roaming loner like himself could see how pretty it was. Why, it was down right poetic.

His long, muscular legs worked easily to hoist him up into the saddle of his chestnut stallion, and as he settled down in the saddle, his dark brown pants tightening around his thighs. He had on a white long sleeved shirt, the top two buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, revealing wholesomely tanned strong forearms. His equally tanned neck was covered with a loose white bandana, sitting still and doing its job in keeping him cool. A pair of six shooters sat, nestled all warm and cozy, in their holsters at either side of his lean hips. They were probably his saving grace after all the tough scrapes he had gotten himself out of with them. Him without those guns was like a Frenchman without a cigarette, it just wasn't right.

He was a working man by blood. His hands were calloused and tough; his boots were dusty and worn. And every inch of his body was tanned to a healthy bronze. His mouth had a somewhat playful quality about it, as if it were easy for him to smile as well as smirk. Stubble lined his jaw from days past when he’d been to busy to shave, and it gave a roughish look to his otherwise respectable looking face.

He went by the same name his mama had given him twenty eight years ago, Chase Russell. He found that it fit him well. Chase took a moment to lift the cowboy hat that had once belonged to his pa and his free hand slicked back his wavy raven black locks. Those same locks he had inherited from his mother, who had been a full blooded Sioux. The last name Russell came from his pa, who had been born and raised a right proper Yankee in Boston. But life out east was to tame, to crowded for him. He needed his freedom. He needed to roam and be his own man with no attachments to tie him down. That was how he lived. He and his horse, Pede, which was short for Stampede, had always been loaners. And they never stayed in one spot for to long, that was just how it had always been.

He put his hat back on and kicked his heel into Pede’s side, starting off down to the town. Oh boy…He could just hear the rumors those towns people would no doubt think up to keep themselves entertained when the spotted the rough and ready stranger ride right on through their sleepy little town.

[Writing Red]

Every town, big or small, needed a school; and every school needed a schoolteacher. It was to Rebecca Wood's pride that she claimed that title for the sleepy little town of Blossom Hills. Headstrong and idealistic, she'd proclaimed early on to her parents that she wouldn't stay in their neat little home in Chicago. She yearned for wider spaces and new experiences, something only the young and growing West, she felt, could give. "Don't be a fool, girl!" her father had bellowed once she told him of her intentions, "Why on earth would you go to that Godforsaken land when you have a perfectly respectable life here!" While they were by no means rich, her family had established a comfortable living, affording such niceties as a good schooling, and nice dresses. Even her sister, Adeline, had called her crazy. Though, Adeline also enjoyed her position in Chicago, and would never dream of leaving.

Only her mother, her sweet mother, had been on her side. She'd convinced Rebecca's father to let her go and experience life on her own, to forge her own path. Yet even upon relenting, her father still felt he needed a hand in where she went. Having known a man who had recently headed West, he contacted him letting him know that his daughter would be arriving within the month. And so, Rebecca had arrived in Blossom Hills, eager and wide-eyed. She'd received a warm welcome from her father's friend, Mr. Roberts, and his wife, but aside from those two, most of the adults seemed to stay away. "Something odd about the girl," she'd overheard one woman say to another, "too caught up with all that book-learnin' to make a decent livin'. Looks down that pretty little nose of hers at us farmin' folk, you just watch her!" Of course, her accusations were completely ridiculous, but Rebecca took it in stride. Their opinion of a girl from the city was to be expected, she resigned, for they'd most likely seen many arrogant city people before.

Despite the town's prejudices, she was a smash with the children. Her students absolutely adored her, and of course, the feeling was mutual. It was when she was teaching in her small one room schoolhouse that she felt her coming to Blossom Hills had truly been the right choice. It was then when she truly felt at home.

Her skirts swished lightly in the hot breeze as she watered the flowers in the window box of her quaint little home, feeling the blazing sun beating down upon her head. Squinting up at the sky, she emitted a small sigh, leaning against the window box. One thing she missed about Chicago was the fact that it was at least a little cooler. Pushing her heavy mahogany curls away from her neck, she continued with her work, taking a little water in her hand and splashing it on the back of her neck. Upon the sound of hoof beats, she turned, her vivid green eyes bright and alert. She watched in curiosity as the rider made his way into town, a small smile playing upon her lips. Oh, what an event this would be... Blossom Hills did not bode well with strangers.

ooc: -clings to Chase- I wants him! Ugh, sorry for all of the background info in this intro, I figured I might as well get it done with now. o.0;

[Musiclover]

ooc- It's ok. Isn't he just scrumptious? -giggle-

Chase rested easily in his saddle, the worn, yet still hard leather creaking with each stride that his horse took. In fact, the ride itself had been going smooth until he heard the clinking of metal and glanced down just as his horse threw his front left shoe.

A slew of unchristian curses emitted from his mouth, and he stopped the horse at the very edge of town, trying the reigns to a post. He walked back to where the shoe had flown off to retrieve it, muttering under his breath. When it came to back luck involving his only means of transportation...well he wasn't the most understanding man.

Every muscle in his back stretched then tightened as he stooped down and scooped the rounded iron up in his hand. "Damn shoe..." He sighed and turned to look back at his horse, waiting patiently where he'd been tied, and made a weary face, tapping the toe of his dusty boot into the tough dirt, breaking it apart. Slowly, his eyes began to scan the town itself. A few people were watching him, Hell, let them watch. A few others were ignoring him, not that he minded that either. Now all he wanted to do was find a good horse farriar, get a decent supper, a good nights sleep, then be on his way, a simple plan that worked for him just fine.

[Writing Red]

Intrigued, Rebecca continued to watch the newcomer, her eyes widening as the string of curses flew from his mouth as easily as a foreigner might speak their native language. Whoever this man was, he most certainly had not been gently reared, she decided, quirking an eyebrow. Then realizing that his horse had lost a shoe, she sympathized. She herself had never ridden on a horse, an unladylike thing to do, as her father had said, but she did think they were quite beautiful creatures... from afar.

Stomach growling loudly, she realized she had scarcely had a thing to eat all day, and hurried into the house to prepare herself dinner. The scent of the stew she was making wafted gently through the air, turning quite a few heads in appreciation. Though she lacked the knowledge of many of the things the other housewives knew, she felt completely confident in boasting her skills as a cook.

ooc: Ehh, straining for them to find some way to meet! o.0

[Musiclover]

ooc- The fastest way to a mans heart is through his stomach after all.

Chase made it back to his horse and laid a calloused hand on the side of the large beasts sweaty neck in a soft pat. He'd had Pede for quite a while, coming up on eight years now. He'd been a good horse, fought off coyotes a few times, trampled rattlers, got him through the hard times.

"'Least ya waited until now to throw this damn shoe." He commented in a deep drawl, holding it up to the horse as if scolding him. "You big ol' monster." He patted his neck again and slid the horse shoe into one of the saddle bags.

It happened to be then that a faint, yet delicious smell floated along the breeze all the way up to his nose. Slowly, he walked around the back of his horse, looking around as he sniffled. Damn, since when had he been so partial to smells like that? Since you stopped eating yesterday mornin', ya stupid brute. Oh yea...that was right... As much as he disliked it, he found himself following the entrancing aroma.

[Writing Red]

ooc: TOO true!

bic:
The thick stew simmered, steam rising from the large pot as Rebecca added this and that, stirring it with a large wooden spoon. They'd always had a cook back home, but one of her favorite hiding spots as a child had been in the kitchens, so naturally she'd picked up upon the fine art of cooking and baking. Eyeing her cupboards thoughtfully, she was sorely tempted to bake a pie; she had a sweet little cherry tree growing in her yard, whose ripe cherries were simply begging to be picked. Though sugar was usually a rare occurrence at the general store, she'd managed to get a bag just before they'd run out.

'Oh, why not?' she thought with a smile, perhaps she could offer some to her neighbors, whose children always eyed the ripe, swollen cherries hungrily. Grabbing a basket, she left the stew to sit just a bit longer and headed outside to her cherry tree, her mouth already watering at the thought of the delicious pie that she would soon make.

ooc: I have a major sweet tooth right now, therefore Rebecca does as well, haha.
.

[Musiclover]

Chase slowed when he heard the source of the smell, bracing his large hands on his lean hips.Lord Almighty it did smell good...but he'd never been one to ask for food or anything of the sort, he was far to proud.

Then his smokey eyes laid on her for the first time.

And what a sight it was. He sure hoped that pretty little thing was the one who was cooking. Whoa doggy wouldn't that just be all? He tried to become fast friends with any woman who could cook well, at least during his stay in whatever town he was in. Then if he was lucky, he ended up with a nice little parting gift from said woman. But that was a complicated thing he could actually do without.

"Well howdy there, lil missy." He commented, watching her reach up into the handsome looking little cherry tree.

[Writing Red]

Eyebrows raised, Rebecca hoisted the basket onto her hip as she continued plucking cherries. "Hello," she said slowly, taking the sight of him in. A tall, lean, rugged looking cowboy, she had never really seen his type, only read of them in the books her father enjoyed. Blossom Hills had a few men who seemed to think themselves 'rough riders', of sorts, but they were sad excuses for cowboys compared to this man. Turning her eyes from him and back to her work, she hated to admit that the man was an incredibly handsome looking rogue, but more than likely just a rogue nonetheless.

"Weren't you the man I saw riding into town only a moment ago," she continued, her tone light as she worked, "the man whose horse threw a shoe?" A smile touched her lips at the thought of his reaction to the ordeal. She wasn't usually one to speak to strangers so freely, but she thought that perhaps she might make an exception this time. She hadn't had a real conversation with anyone past puberty in a long while, seeing as the adults of Blossom Hills didn't take so kindly to newcomers, so she thought she might as well make the most of it.

[Musiclover]

He slowly lifted a tan, worn hand to tough the brim of his hat polightly. If his ma ever found out that he had ever greeted a lady without some sign of respect, she'd paddle his hyde raw...him being a full grown man made not the shred of difference to her. And judging by the appearance of the fine, little thing before him, it'd probably proove in his best interest. And who knew? There was no doubt in his mind that the people of this little town respected properness over rash behavior. It couldn't hurt to earn some brownie points.

But either way, the smile on his lips grew at her words and he casually leaned against a fence post, dusting his hands off by brushing them against eachother a few times. "Ya saw that, huh?" He drawled slowly, a chuckle excaping him as he thought how he might have looked. "That was me. Ya wouldn't happen to know anyone round here who could fix it for me, would ya?"

[Writing Red]

Rebecca tilted her head in thought. "I believe Mr. Harrison, the blacksmith, would be able to help you. I would give you a recommendation, but I'm afraid I wouldn't know who I was recommending..." Rebecca prompted. "I'm Rebecca Wood, I'm the school teacher in Blossom Hills," she offered with a smile, resting the basket lightly on her picket fence.

He seemed a nice enough man, she thought absently to herself as she looked him over. Very nice indeed... She'd never seen a man so built, nor one who emanated such confidence. He was an interesting man for sure, and she rather hoped he stuck around long enough for her to get to know him... she needed the socialization.

[Musiclover]

Chase couldn't help but chuckle, looking around the little town. In all honesty, he hadn't even expected such an underdeveloped place to have their own blacksmith yet, but who was he to argue. "Well, thank ya kindly, Miss. Wood." He replied, his smile spreading up to his eyes, making them crinkle slightly and a dimple appeared in his left cheek. "And I'd be Chase. Chase Russell."

Hm, a school teacher. Every other school teacher he had run across had never been so young...or pretty for that matter. He'd been almost sure that he had left behind all the pretty women who actually knew something about education back in the east. It was a pleasure just in itself to run across this pretty little missy now.