Kate looked out at the main street from under the shade of the Alhambra Inn, swirling the toe of her boot in the dust. She had every intention of marching right over to the Silver Spur and having quite a few drinks at other people's expense (the money she had was, after all, not really her own, but stolen off various persons, businesses, etc.), but first needed to ensure the coast was clear. The issue of the stolen gold looked to have quieted down some, but the men were still hanging around the gunsmith's. Unfortunately for the murderous Hass, the miners had long since grown bored and were now thirsting for liquor rather than blood. To pass the time they were taking turns seeing who could spit the farthest, and none of them were doing particularly well.
A little further down the street sat a woman in a sapphire dress that, to Kate's untrained eye, looked both incredibly uncomfortable and highly impractical. Though a pair of trousers and a button-up shirt didn't make a particularly good disguise if you were trying to blend in as a female, they certainly made good riding clothes, and they were infinitely more practical for bank robberies and stage coach hold-ups and such.
There were other people about, but the woman on the bench and the group of miners looked to be the only stationary groups/persons, and lucky for Kate, neither had any idea of her presence. The marshal was nowhere to be seen (though she was certain he'd noticed her absence by now), and there seemed to be a general lack of action in Splitcreek. That is until three riders tore into town, shooting and hollering and making a scene. Some poor soul was being dragged behind them, and the gruesome scene cleared the streets in a hurry. It happened fast, too fast for Kate to process much anything, but she did know for certain that she was no longer the only outlaw in town.
When the screams of terrified women and cries of children had finally quieted down, Kate stepped out into the street and headed for the Silver Spur, taking care to avoid the mangled body now lying in the street. Christ, where was the town doctor when you needed him?
Kate heard Cooper before she saw him. He was, of course, cursing quite loudly, and creatively, too, filling the air with an impressive amount of colorful language. She stopped some thirty feet before the saloon and watched the unkempt man totter down the street, empty vodka bottle in hand, Stetson tilted at a rakish (and completely useless) angle. When the dust-caked man could no longer tackle the incredible challenge presented by walking, he fell/sat, in his very suave way, on his ass.
Eventually, the determined drunkard got to his feet again and made a valiant attempt to walk into the saloon, which ended with a broken vodka bottle and a very cross looking blonde woman standing over him. She made an attempt to return his hat, but with the alcohol-induced double vision, the poor cowboy didn't know which hat to grab. The blonde woman (who was also very fashionably/impractically dressed) looked to be at her wit's end with the man, and was looking around, presumably for someone to haul his sorry ass off to jail.
And Kate just couldn't let that happen. As someone who had enjoyed many a drink, it didn't seem fair to let the poor fool suffer for his inability to hold his liquor. Cue the charming (and definitely not an outlaw, don't mind the wanted posters) Kate, who hustled over to Cooper and Bonnie and flashed her biggest smile. "So sorry, Ma'am. This here's my brother, Virgil. He hurt his leg real bad 'bout a week ago, ain't that right, Virgil?" she asked the nearly incoherent Cooper, who mumbled another string of curses. "Anyway, he's been drinking to help the pain, and sometimes he has a little too much and just...wanders off." She gave Bonnie a "what're you gonna do?" shrug and hooked her hands under Cooper's armpits, attempting to haul him to his feet.
"Anyhow, I'll make sure to get him back to the house so he won't cause any more trouble." She smiled once more, and, before Bonnie could get in a word, proceeded to drag Cooper away from the saloon, huffing and puffing as she hauled him out of the sight. The minute she was sure the school teacher could no longer see Cooper's drunken form, she dumped him unceremoniously in the dirt and dusted off her hands, slumping down against the wall of the nearest building. She hadn't the slightest idea why she'd done what she had, but hell, if you were going to rescue a drunk, it might as well be a good looking one. And how lucky that the womanizing Mr. Winston should run into the one female Splitcreek who wasn't dressed as a female.