Having drained the young man from the train less than 24 hours earlier, Vance's senses were at their peak, and despite the distance between his table and that of the family that held his interest -- or the woman who held his interest -- he was able to hear every word they spoke, as if he was sitting in their laps.

[quote]“Oh! I just had a wonderful idea! It would be the perfect time for you to change from your mourning clothes. Think of it a party and no more black. Perhaps you might even meet someone.”[/quote]

[i]Mourning clothes[/i], Vance thought, eying the dark haired woman again.  He didn't often feel like an idiot: he was careful in the things he did, the words he said, and the thoughts he bounced about inside his skull.  But at this moment, he certainly felt stupid for not having put that together the lack of a husband-type companion and the black fashion.

He diverted his eyes for a long moment, speaking to the hostess, then to the waitress as each passed, checking on him.

[quote]“Curious that. Why would he send that over?”

“Perhaps he knows who we are. Maybe he is just a well mannered gentleman.”[/quote]

As the man spoke, Vance wished that had been the reason for the offering.  In reality, he'd simply been looking for something that might bring him closer to the widow for whom he's been contemplating inappropriate thoughts.  He listened without looking to the ongoing conversation about whether or not he should be asked to join the table.

[quote]“Invite him over.”[/quote]

The new voice joining the conversation caused Vance to once again set his gaze upon the distant beauty.  His lips spread in just a bit of a pleased smirk at the surprise the others were showing their widowed relative.  They were surprised, Vance was surprised, and -- honestly -- she wore an expression that made Vance think that maybe she might also be surprised that she said it.

A moment later, the eldest of the men was standing at Vance's table, offering his hand.  Vance didn't hesitate to reach out and take it, responding, "It would be my pleasure, so long as you're certain I would not be intruding."

The man who'd introduced himself as Benjamin Stewart reassured the stranger that he was welcome, causing the vampire to stand and say, "Vance.  Vance Hamilton."

Vance retrieved his own glass of liquor and followed his host across the restaurant.  Introductions were made, and Vance was sure to nod and smile and greet each family member as was appropriate.  When Benjamin got to his widowed niece, Vance's smile widened a bit more as he said, "A pleasure."

It didn't go unnoticed to Vance that eyes fell upon the Colt strapped across his waist.  He gestured to the hostess, and as she crossed to him, Vance unbuckled the gun belt, wrapped it around the weapon held within, and asked the woman, "Would it possible to have this delivered to the hotel's front desk?"

"Of course, sir," the woman said.  She took the handgun without hesitation, giving Vance the distinct impression that if necessary, the woman in her 40s could probably use it or a similar weapon with great skill and knowledge.  He felt a bit naked without the .45, but it wasn't as if he was in a rowdy saloon or out on the hard streets of the boom town.  Sitting down, he thanked one and all for the invitation, then asked his host, "So, are you long time residents of Willow Springs?  I've been told it has had an explosion in population since the railroad and mine."

He listened to Benjamin's answer, adding comments and follow up questions when they were appropriate.  And he told the family that he himself had only just arrived in town the day before and -- though in no hurry -- was looking for work.  And while his gaze shifted about the table as this person or that asked questions or made comments, Vance's gaze always seemed to return to the beautiful widow sitting directly across the table from him.  He tried not to look to conspicuous in his attentions.  But it was likely that those attentions weren't going to go unnoticed.

"Do you play cards?" asked one of the younger men, Johnathan Vance recalled his name being.  He had a very hopeful tone as he clarified unnecessarily, "Poker."

The vampire did, and he enjoyed it, too, maybe because he was both good at reading the other players and -- when possible -- good at using his [i]charismatic ability[/i] to cause them to say or do things at the table that would give them and the strength of their hands away, particularly when they were intoxicated or simply dumb as a post.  And while Vance would have loved for the man to escort him to a friendly game somewhere in town, he got a sense from the man's wife -- and from some of his other family members -- that this was a sore subject with them.

"I'm sorry, but no ... I never learned to play the game," Vance lied, glancing to Anna, who seemed to be happy with the response.  Vance looked to Lillian again with a slight smile, then back to Benjamin as he changed the subject with, "So, ranching.  I hear the railroad has made it a more lucrative industry now."

Vance pretended to have an interest in what Benjamin had to say.  But truly, his only interest was in figuring out a way to get to know the beauty across from him better.