Any. Way. The three of them are out on the dusty main street. Kansas explains that he and Harmon are Texas Rangers, men belonging to a volunteer organization dedicated to, ahem, "bringing law and order to a lawless land." Harmon dumps his ten-gallon on his head and admonishes Kansas, "You can't say it like that, it makes us sound like we sit around drinking milk all day." Another shiver electrifies my spine. Texas. Rangers. Oh. Boy. Luke says, "Wait a minute, Harmon -- you're a cop?" Did they even have the word "cop" back in the Wild West? Where's the OED when you need it? Harmon: "No. There's a sheriff, but he's only got jurisdiction in town." Kansas laments, "And only a small sack of courage." Laughter ensues. Harmon continues, "It's a job that needs doing, and there's no one to do it but us." Pause. "It's really not that big a deal." Luke whines, "If it's not that big a deal then let me come." No. Blah dead mother, blah dead father, blah could be dangerous, blah we're Rangers, blah you're not. Harmon says, "I'll see you in a couple days." Yah! C'yah! Ho-ha! Off they go on their horses, blazing out of town on a guitar riff and kicking up dust as they go along.
Over to Grace, Harmon's wife. My goodness, there are a lot of people in Dallas. Extras in period-appropriate costumes flit about everywhere. Grace is a pretty red-haired woman wearing a pink skirt. She heads into the Dallas Tribune offices and asks if she's got time to place a new ad. Emily Landry, a young woman wearing a shirt covered in ink, replies, "No. I think I can fit you in, Grace." She grabs a pad of paper and a pencil: "Just write it down here, I'm about to break for lunch. I'll set it after." She walks by Harmon's son, whose official names is Harmon, Jr., and says, "You can play with those, Little Man; just put them back in the same places, okay? I don't want to find out I'm publishing the Dallas Trombone!" She wipes her hands on her skirt and walks behind a wardrobe thingy to change. Damn you, Forrest Gump. You've ruined everything. Grace says, "We don't want to call it Hartman's Trading Post, which Harmon already thinks sounds old-fashioned. We want to call it Hartman's Department Store, and then we'll put all the items in their own department." Oh, people in the Wild West were so damn smart. Yawn. Emily makes a joke about men pawing at their "delicates" for a good reason. She walks over to Grace and asks, "Is he here yet?" Grace smiles and says next week. Emily says, "And he's really that cute?" Grace replies, "Just looks like Harmon did ten years ago." Um, except that Sebastian Spence and Chad Michael Murray don't look anything alike. They don't come close to even slightly resembling one another. But whatever -- the hammer is pounding away, reminding me that I'm supposed to be suspending my disbelief. Emily's off on some romantic reverie: "I look forward to making his acquaintance." Blah blah blah love interest-cakes part deux.