Rampinella's eyes widened minutely, but the rest of her face barely twitched. The only other sign of her shock was the sudden tension in her shoulders and the clenching of her hands on the edge of the bar. Muscle by muscle, she forced herself to relax.

"You are, hm?" she said carefully, looking him over quickly for concealed weapons. Dammit, Marjorie was supposed to be at the door, taking the gun belts off of these drifters— "What'd you like me to do about it, sugar? Get you a girl who can help you forget? Keep pouring drink into you until you do it on your own?" She didn't dare pat his hand, but she kicked her leg out a bit more. "I'm no preacher, darlin'. Can't do much myself."