Evelyn arranged with the Shelbys for her horses and carriage to return to her cottage. "I prefer them at home instead of a stable as much as possible," she explained. Tommy said he completely understood.

She drove the carriage back home and one of the men would pick her up at her cottage with their motor car. When she arrived home and got the boys situated, she approached her house and heard someone around front. "Hello?" he was calling.

She stayed along the side of the house but pulled her dagger out just in case. "Who is it?" she yelled back. She hadn't heard a motorcar approach.

"It's Michael!" the voice called back.

She sighed and walked around front. She kept her dagger in her hand, tucked along her forearm, just in case. At the front of her house he was standing with the two horses Tommy had bought along with him. She smiled. "We're riding them instead of the car?"

He nodded. "Figured it'd be a great way to start breaking them in."

Evelyn pulled her skirt up a bit, put her dagger back, and looked back at Michael. He had raised and eyebrow but said nothing. "I need to change really quick. If you want, you can tie them up by the water and food trough and come in to wait. Or you can wait outside with them. Your choice."

He nodded again, walking the horses to the troughs. Evelyn headed inside. She left the door unlocked but headed to her bedroom, closing and locking the door. After a few minutes she'd changed into fresh pants and blouse, with her nicer boots on. Since she'd be going to a pub, she kept her dagger tucked away better and wore a leather pack on her belt, in which she had a small pistol. When she stepped into the living room, she saw Michael standing and looking around.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said. He nodded.

"The little bit of stuff you have seems worldly," he noted.

"Yeah, I've travelled a bit. Some of it not in the best of circumstances," she said.

He looked down. "You had asked if we were in the war. The rest of my cousins were - I was too young. I'm just 20 this year," he concluded.

Evelyn nodded. "I lied about my age to enlist," she said. "It was common in America. And easy."

"What made you want to go so bad?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "I loved my job, and the horses. I didn't love being beat by my father and ignored by my mother."

He clicked his tongue. "Makes sense."

They were walking to the horses and mounting. "So the Shelbys are your cousins, not brothers?"

"Yeah, but they might as well be my brothers. My last name is Gray - it's my mum's maiden name. But when you're in the family, you're a Shelby."

They trotted down the lane a ways before she spoke up. "Wanna run them to the city limits, see how they do?"

Michael nodded with a smile. "Definitely. And maybe race a bit in town."

Evelyn laughed. "I'm always up for a challenge."

He shook his head slightly. "For someone who says you avoid trouble, you seem to not mind stirring the pot."

She shrugged and looked down. "I can't help my rebellious streaks. America breeds it into you."

With that, they took off down the road, and caught a lot of yells from passerby in town as they galloped down the streets in the crowded city.

At the Garrison, it was a rowdy party. Evelyn got some whistles and comments but Michael offered his arm, which she took, and everyone quieted down with that. Michael led them back to a room in the corner of the ornate pub and closed the doors. The other Shelbys were there, whisky already poured and flowing.

Evelyn took a seat and Michael followed suit. "How were the horses?" Tommy asked.

Michael went to speak, but Tommy held up a finger. "Ms. Cox."

She blushed a bit. "Mr. Shelby, you can call me Evelyn, or Evie if you'd prefer," she began. "The horses were lovely. We spent some time seeing… their temperament on the streets. They react well, listen great, and are real fast."

He nodded. "Good to hear. Thank you, Evie. Most associates call me Tommy - don't worry about formalities, there are too many Mr. Shelbys around for that."

She smiled. "I can do that."

The boys went back to their talking and joking, and Evelyn took a glass of whiskey, swigging some and observing. Michael leaned over. "What's your favorite booze?"

Evelyn leaned her head to the side, thinking. "Have you ever had wine?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

She turned to him. "It's made from grapes. Not as strong as whiskey, but much stronger than beer. It makes you feel happy and fuzzy. I think that's my favorite."

Michael nodded, sipping his whiskey. "I think mine is scotch. Usually we just have whiskey or beer and fight. But wine sounds nice."

Evelyn nodded, sipping her whiskey too. "It is nice. It's nice to feel happy."

He thought for a second. "Do you usually not feel happy?"

She shrugged. "I don't think so. Everything is monotonous, the same everyday. I feel happy with my boys. Other than that, not really."

"Did it get worse after the war?" he whispered.

Evelyn looked at him quickly. Then she nodded once. "Yeah. A lot changed after the war. I wasn't happy. I don't sleep well. The usual stuff. I'm sure your cousins know, too."

Michael looked at Tommy, Arthur, and John. "I didn't know them before the war, but my mum says it took its toll. Tommy especially was never the same."

She continued sipping her drink and listening passively to the conversations passing around her. It was mostly Arthur guffawing about this and that, and Tommy quietly discussing business with John to the side. She made a mental note that she should really try and find out what the Shelbys usually did.

"What business does your family do again?" Evelyn whispered to Michael.

"Horse racing and exporting cars. For now," he paused, "we're always looking to expand though. Probably see what else we can trade."

"That sounds great," Evelyn said. "My family only dabbled in horse racing back home. It's starting to take hold. We mostly got paid to train horses for other ranches or for show. Did a little breeding. I can't imagine something as big as exports or imports."

Michael shrugged. "Just business, you know." He continued sipping on his whiskey.

John pulled out a cigar, getting ready to light. "Do y'all have any cigars for a lady?" Evelyn asked. John smirked, pulling out a case of cigarillos. He presented it to her and she pulled one out. He lit it up for her. "This is a good life," she laughed.

"It can be luxurious, if you stay for it," Tommy said. "Did you pass through Italy at all, to be fond of cigarillos?" Most of the men were looking her way, probably hoping to swap some general war stories.

She sat up straighter, sipping her whiskey and drawing on her smoke. "Yeah, I travelled a lot more than most soldiers, probably. Nurses and doctors were shuffled constantly. The longest I went without sleep was probably five days - I might have dozed here or there, but I don't remember most of those days. When we did travel, it was commonly with injured soldiers with us, so we never got a break. I know the men in the trenches didn't either."

Arthur nodded. "I didn't travel much. Got pretty used to my hellhole."

Evelyn smiled slightly. "I did get to see some pretty things, in between war zones. Italy had vineyards that weren't set ablaze, and we were gifted wine for helping citizens that got hurt. There were a lot of burials though… the Swiss were kind, but we ended up close to Austria. That was the closest I came to dying."

"We mostly just stayed in France, and almost died everyday," Tommy muttered.

Evelyn nodded. "I know parts of my role were a blessing, and parts were a curse. I appreciated the chance to help soldiers, and did help those of all Ally nationalities. But we had our strifes, too." Her hand was shaking slightly. Some from nerves that she was seemingly in a pissing contest with veterans, some from beginning to remember harder days. "But I finished my service, thank God, and went home. The family was gone so I took what I could and went back to France. Enjoyed some time in the countryside, and ended up here."

Tommy puffed on a cigarette. "We're glad you're here. The troops are thankful for what medical care they received. You don't go unappreciated," he concluded.

She nodded, looking down at her drink. She decided on another pour - her feelings were mixed and making her feel unsure. Michael noticed and smirked a bit. "I'm sure my mum wouldn't mind housing you for a night, if you need," he said. "She always talks about needing more women about."

"Thank you," Evelyn said. "I might take you up on that. I'll need to head back home in the morning then, if I don't make it back tonight."

"It'd be wise to stay with Pol," Arthur commented. "It can be rough goings around here at night."

Evelyn sighed. "I suppose you're right. That's fine by me, if I'd not be a bother."

Tommy shook his head. "As long as you're not screwing our family over, Aunt Pol is usually fine with anyone."

After a few more drinks and smokes, Evelyn had relaxed enough to mingle in the Garrison. The men left her alone and she was able to enjoy some games of darts, some arm wrestling, and lots of cards. Her cheery nature lent her a natural ability to convince and persuade, so it took the place of a traditional poker face.

The night began wrapping up and Evelyn found Michael speaking with a woman. "Evie, this is me mum, Pol," he introduced.

"It's a great pleasure, ma'am," Evelyn said, curtseying slightly and then extending a hand for a shake as well. "I've heard nothing but great things about you."

Pol chuckled. "So far!" she said, shaking Evelyn's hand. "Where's your skirts? You don't see many women without them around here."

Evelyn blushed slightly. "I'm used to trousers now, it's more common in America. When I'm training horses or relaxing I prefer 'em. I'll wear skirts when proper, though."

The maternal figure nodded. "Fine by me. Just don't cause any trouble because of it."

The trio discussed the night, and Pol gladly accepted Evelyn to her residence. They all walked outside and hopped in a motorcar to the house. When there, Pol showed Evelyn to a room and wardrobe. "Help yourself to night clothes, and make yourself at home. Tea is downstairs. I'll be heading to bed soon, so just behave yourself." Pol paused before walking out the door. "Ring the bell for the maid. My door is last on the left down the hall - Michael's is the last on the right. Goodnight."

Evelyn bid her goodnight and found a long, warm looking dress. She changed and curled up on the bed. A small fire was lit in the fireplace and she watched it for a bit. Tonight would be a restless night - talking about the war got her jittery, and sobering up made her feel more awake.

She found some slippers and wandered downstairs to prepare some tea. She found Michael by the fire, dressed more casually but not yet in nightclothes. He nodded in greeting. "Need something?"

"Preparing some tea. Can't settle," she said, preparing the kettle. "Want any?"

He nodded. "Why not."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while with just the fire crackling as white noise. Soon the kettle whistled and Evelyn poured them some tea. She sipped her drink, looking up to see Michael staring at her calmly.

"What?" she asked.

He smirked. "You probably don't know what you're walking into with my family."

"Well, from what I understand, it sounds like y'all are gangsters. Almost like a mafia, at this point." She set her cup down. "A lot of people in a lot of places. Probably a lot of weapons, illegal happenings… the works. But I intend to stay as out of it as possible, so just don't give me any details."

Michael chuckled. "You're right for the most part. At this point, we probably are close to a mafia outfit, just the English version. But we're on our way to being totally straight, we barely do anything bad anymore."

"Uh-huh…" Evelyn muttered. "That's what they all say."

"Who's 'they'?" Michael asked.

"Honestly, mostly men. Maybe just criminals in general? Women can be that way, too."

He chuckled. Some rattling sound began to come into hearing range, and Evelyn looked to the fire. They had taken the tea kettle off, and everyone else was asleep… It must be coming from outside.

As they sat and listened, Michael opened the drawer of an end table and pulled out a pistol. "I think it's a car. But there's usually not traffic this time of night," he whispered. He handed the pistol over to Evelyn, then drawing his own from a holster along his side.

Sure enough, a motor was heard outside. Evelyn waited for it to pass, but instead it sounded like an idling car outside. Although there were many homes in this row, she knew the likelihood that a late night visitor was for the Shelby family. "Expecting any family?" she whispered.

Michael shook his head. "Let's just wait."

They heard doors open, then close. Some rustling and vague voices. Evelyn heard a tapping from the back of the house. "Michael. The back door."

He nodded. "Let's just wait. When they come in, act surprised. If they're gonna shoot, shoot first."

Great advice, Evelyn thought with an internal eye roll. But she decided to set her pistol down and cover it with some folds of her gown. She had her hair down, because she had truly been ready for bed. She didn't look like a threat and planned to use that to her advantage.

Finally, the back door and the front door banged open as a total of four men barged in. Michael stood up, pistol drawn. Evelyn stayed sitting, but turned to focus more on the men from the rear. "What the fuck do you want?" Michael asked.

All of the men had firearms, but looked a bit shabby. Probably not a large, organized family, Evelyn thought. She noted muddiness along their boots and trousers, meaning they're likely working men.

"You two buy those horses today?" one of the men from the front door grunted.

"What does it matter?" Michael asked. "They're just horses."

"That's not what I asked!" the man said, raising his voice and stepping forward. Evelyn knew Pol was probably standing at the top of the stairs, a pistol of her own pulled.

"I bought them," Evelyn said. "I work with them."

The men looked at her. "Yeah, we know," the apparent leader said. "We're here for whoever is in charge of those horses."

"Perfect!" Evelyn said, perking up. "Then what are we doing?"

Michael glanced at her. Evelyn stood up, having slid the pistol into a pocket of the dress. She walked towards the man at the front door, who seemed confused. She put her hand on the end of his shotgun pointing at them and pushed it to lower it down. He complied, and the other men followed.

"What?" the man muttered. "Uh… you're coming with us, that's what."

"To where?" Evelyn chirped.

"London. You're needed."

"By whom?" she returned.

"None of your damn business, but you're coming with us!" he grumbled.

"Oh no, not tonight," she chided. "I'm hardly ready for travel to London. Please pick me back up tomorrow morning."

The man huffed. "Damn women… What do you mean? No, you have to come now."

Evelyn shrugged. "I'll go peacefully tomorrow morning, or I'll pitch a fit if you make me go tonight. Your choice."

The leader sighed. He turned to whisper to his colleague behind him. Michael was looking at Evelyn in an exasperated manner. She continued acting coy.

"Fine," the leader said. "We just have to be back tomorrow evening, so we have some time. Consider yourself lucky!" he huffed. The two men from the back of the house muttered among themselves and headed out. "We'll be back tomorrow morning," he warned again. "No exceptions." They all loaded into the car and began puttering away.

"Holy shit," Evelyn said. "I can't believe that worked."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Michael said. Pol had walked down the stairs at this point, gripping her handy pistol.

Evelyn shrugged. "They looked like working men, probably dumb grunts. I figured I could sweet talk my way to get us more time to figure out who the fuck they're working for. I'm glad I was right!"

Michael put his head in his hands, and Pol openly laughed. "That's right!" That's how a woman does it!"

"We should probably phone Tommy and figure out more information soon," Evelyn suggested.

Pol nodded. "I'll call. I got the plates of the car by looking out the window upstairs. That should help."

Evelyn sighed and plopped back down in the chair. "I guess I won't be getting sleep, like I expected."