Now, Kate's not usually the sorta folk who'd invite herself to a fella's table, but it's crowded in the lounge tonight and he looks like the respectable sort. More respectable than some, anyhow; or maybe she's just picking up on some old Southern roots.

"Howdy, stranger."

She smiles, looking just as sweet as pie, blonde hair pulled over one shoulder in a braided tress. There's a pair of six-shooters on her hips, and despite being no taller than five-feet-one-inch, she carries herself with the air of a woman who knows full well how to use them.

Kissin' Kate Barlow is nothing if not a mystery.

"Mind if I join you?"