The woman frowned at him. She didn't rise to the bait this time but only nodded to him and to say, "Bienvenue," in an absentminded manner. She at least paid attention enough to keep from overfilling the cup. This time she did walk away at a slower pace. An older man came out and said, "I am closing early, my daughter needs me. I have some leftover stew if either of you want some. I'll trust you to lock up when you are done."

She glanced over at him in bewilderment and he feigned a look of helplessness. He had been listening to the way the man talked and his amusement was such that he was instigating something rather interesting. He was only going for a walk into the market and back, he wasn't lying so much because he needed to pick up medicine for his daughter, but he would be back before she even knew it and he would be watching to see how this young man intended to interact with the sullen young woman he'd taken in. At least she was willing to work, but good lord, she needed her feathers ruffled.

Cerise caught the look in his eyes and grew suspicious that he was up to something. "You know good and well I think you need to eat something more, that small bowl of oats isn't going to keep you awake." He whispered that to her once he had pulled her into the kitchen.

She went beet red, "But..."

"You need to rest anyway," he hissed out, "Shoo. Just do it." He waved her away.

And before she could protest further, he sort of pushed her out backwards into the dining room and she could hear the slamming of the back door almost the instant she was in the room again, as if somehow he gained super human speed. Mon dieu, she thought with a wide eyed gaze at the door that had been closed in her face.

She counted to three, looked over her shoulder toward the man with the strange disposition, one who felt it was adorable to tease her. "The owner has to tend to something regarding his daughter, so he is closing for the rest of the day. But he says you can have the stew for free today as an apology for any inconvenience." She would not be flirting with this man, much to the old man's disappointment as he would find out later. The old fart was a mischief maker as much as the man who was dressed as a cowboy.

She grabbed her dishes and took them to the back then, muttering and pretending to make busy just to give herself a chance to relax before she brought the stew out. When she returned, it was served to him with another bit of bread, this time warmed up and fluffy. She set a crock of butter out for him as well as some more of that honey, should he want it.

He listened to the owner speak and recognized the look he had same as cerise did, though sam saw it as one bullshitter spotting another. Sam released a heavy hearted, completely fake sigh. He moved his hat from the table to hang off the corner of the same empty chair his duster occupied. "Ok, sit down." he motioned to the chair across from him as he sat up in his own. "Come on now, I know that one little bowl wasn't enough. that nibble wouldn't be enough to most kids. So, that bein said, I'm willing to overlook how much we've had to focus on your backside so far in the spirit of friendship an cooperation." Sam leaned forward a little i his chair, his smile now much more mischievous, but not any serious form of threat. "Plus you heard the man, lock up when we're done...an i can eat reeeeeaaaaaaaal slow sometimes. Especially if I'm by maself, makes me real sad." he took another drink of his coffee, still not taking his eyes off of her while he waited to see what she would do.

Cerise kept her lips shut. She lifted her chin defiantly, the petite young woman crossing her arms over her chest. She sat down with a huff, clearly not amused by this turn of events. She had been tricked. Dirty old man and his mischief making ways. Her fingers curled into her arms for a moment as she stared anywhere but him. "If it will help you eat faster, of course I'll sit. It's the least I can do." She was acting bored, but the scene was anything but boring. Indeed, she looked like she had faced hardships thus far. It was truth that she was not used to kindness without working for it in return. The old man had wanted to simply just take her in but she insisted on earning her keep.

Truth be told, she really was hungry but taking more than just a few morsels made her wonder if she'd get into trouble. That was how it worked with people like her, she thought, those who were lost and left to figure out for themselves who they were. Cerise did wish to know who she was, but it was a moot point. The smell of the stew overtook her and she filled the second bowl and took a smallish hunk of bread. She then ate it slowly, as if savoring it. Her eyes soon closed.

He would be able to see easily enough if he paid attention that she was pale in a way that seemed like she was a wilted flower.

"Much better!" he smiled wider, and tended to his own bowl for a bit. he watched her, not directly staring but looking at the details of her. He could see a sort of empty quality about her, a sad thing. Sam had barely been given an education, let alone any higher form of it. This at times caused his questions to be incredibly direct and his statement blunt. subtlety was not his strong suit by any stretch of the imagination, "So? I saw that look you gave earlier. you weren't here, you were of somewheres else, where you wanted to be. Got a deam yer chasin? something so far out of yer reach its killin you? Is it someone? cause i can promise they won't think you look as good as i do." he just couldn't stop himself, even during what should be a serious conversation. Still, it was clear he actually was interested in her story. he had passed out rather early the night before, having hit the bottles starting during the day, so he could pretty well ignore the pounding in his head now. "its just us two in here, ain't nobody around to judge. lets hear it."

"There is nothing to tell," she said, stirring at the hot stew and letting it cool. He hadn't even asked for her name yet, no introductions made and he wanted her to trust him. Still, she filled a cup for herself of coffee, adding sugar for herself, then some cream. She only added enough to dilute the strength, the coffee was still scalding hot within the carafe. She fidgeted as she waited for things to cool down to cook, quite aware of his gaze upon her. Her mouth became a line as she continued to avoid staring back at him.

He tilted his head a little. "Nothin at all hmm? alright then, lets get back to roots." he struck his hands together to clear some crumbs off, "if the open eared stranger won't get you talkin, lets go this road." he held his hand out to her to shake as he spoke, "Samuel Carson, but folks usually just call me Sam. I promise shakin my hand is safe. you might feel a strong desire to leap into my arms after but do yer best to ignore it." again that stupid, light smile was showing her way. No malice, no ill intent at all. just an irritating mix of genuine interest in her and a deep desire to push her buttons at the same time. he would not take no for an answer either, and even if she continued the conversation he would continue to hold his hand out awkwardly, resting his elbow on the table if he had to. Even continuing the conversation he would keep it there until he got that shake.

She saw his hand out as if for a truce. She took him by the hand, ignoring the flirtation. She murmured, "Cerise Angelle," and it was easy enough to know that the last name was something that had to have been made up by the person who gave her the moniker, a common practice with orphans who have no names sometimes based on the demeanor of the child. She let go of his hand after a quick squeeze and not a shake. Cerise took a bite of the stew and closed her eyes once more to focus on the fact that she was eating delicious food. She then started eating a little faster, her hunger starting to show by that point. The bowl was soon being scraped clean with a piece of bread and it was gone almost without her tasting it.

"Well its nice to meetchu Cerise." he did not question his name, for all he knew that was normal where she came from, Sam as not a well travelled man after all. Without acknowledging it he slid his bowl across the table to her and continued eat his bread. it was still a bit too soon coming out of the hangover for him to eat that at this point. "So cerise, where you from? can't say i've heard anyone talk like you." the same could be said for him, but how many people actually stop and consider how their accents sound to others? again he would repeat his childish antics if she tried to deny the food, simply making sure the bowl was in front of her if she tried to push it away, purposefully acting like he didn't even know it was happening. no one scrapes a bowl like that unless they are still hungry, and he wasn't gonna get away with eating less than she needed.

"France," she murmured, "Not that it matters." And then she took his bowl and emptied it out almost as quickly as the last bowl, or at least about halfway into eating it. Then the thing that happens to hungry people once they finally do get a good meal, they grow sleepy. She was no exception. She began to grow sleepy before his eyes. Whatever had happened to make her this way would remain her secret, she was closed off as tightly as a locked diary.

The man came back and peaked in through the kitchen door. Cerise nodded off just as he did so. He moved to catch her just as she would have face planted into the bowl. "Good gracious, the poor dear. She needed to eat though. Thank you for taking that task into hand. She's a stubborn one." But now what? He wasn't sure he trusted the stranger enough to put her in her bed, he eyed him, then the girl who he was quickly growing fond of as he would his own kin. But he needed to make sure his daughter was alright. He glanced over to the stranger then and said seriously, "I have to find a place for her to stay. I don't mind her sleeping here but... she's been sleeping in the basement on the cot I usually keep for myself on nights when I need to stay around late."

He was in process of moving to catch her himself, but the man was quicker. "think nothin of it friend, i've dealt with mules less stubborn headed." he said this half jokingly. then the next part his his ears, "a place for her to stay hmm? i've only been in town a few days myself. got an inn...somewhere. I don't think shed be happy to wake up there though." he thought for a moment, then sighed. "aw hell who am i foolin? i've been drunk in the streets since i got here. if you think a good rest in a full bed'll do her some good she can stay in my room, otherwise i can take her down to the cot. can't see much option past the two." Sam put his hat back on and stood up, adjusting his gun belt since he had been seated. He wasn't about to decide the best course for a young woman he had just met, and truth be told going out into the streets with a passed out woman didn't seem like a wise decision either. he genuinely wanted to help though, something his friend john would have scolded him for he was sure but he couldn't help it. "i think you know the girl better'n me, so you make the call."