The doorbell gave a delicate chime as Rhett pushed his way inside the crowded shop. The absence of his spurs clinking faintly as he walked across the tiled floor felt strange to him. He paused just past the threshold, blinking at the sight before him. The little shop was lit by flickering gas lamps, their glow reflected in the glass jars filled with sweets and toppings for the ice cream on display. Behind the counter a young woman in a frilled apron smiled brightly, her cheeks painted with a dab of rouge and unless his eyes deceived him, a small black triangle on the tip of her nose - a cat's nose. The decorations were amusing as well, and he occasionally moved his head this way or that to avoid a collision with a bat, or even a spider that charged from the ceiling before retreating back once again.

He tipped his hat politely before removing it and brushing his hair back from his face. “Afternoon, ma'am,” he said. “I was told there was a saloon of sorts around here. Seems I may have taken a wrong turn.” Rhett said. He was, of course, speaking of the Leaky Cauldron. The woman laughed over the hustle and bustle of the room, which seemed like it was enough to make the brass fixtures tremble at times. The woman looked slightly confused. “Only ice cream here, I am afraid. Rum raisin, perhaps?” She replied, gesturing to the marble counter within which were great metal tubs sat half-buried in frost, each one labeled in careful copperplate: Vanilla Custard, Strawberry Fool, Treacle & Walnut... and that is where the names stopped making a whole lot of sense to him.

The cowboy squinted, the sobering realization that there wasn't an ounce of whiskey packed on ice back there. He'd seen ice cream, of course, but he'd never brought himself to actually try it. He moved next to Tabitha and leaned on the counter, curiosity flickering behind his dusty green eyes. He'd crossed deserts where the sun could melt a man's boots to the sand, and he'd felt less bewildered than in this moment. He heard the soft voice next to him speak up, to herself by the sound of it. Taking a step back from the counter he looked down at Tabitha, just at the moment she tucked her hair back. Rhett swallowed hard at the gesture. It was best not to notice it now, but that sure was a pretty ear.

He shook his head a little and refocused. “That makes two of us, darlin'. I was about to ask you for suggestions, but I reckon you're nearly as lost as I am, judging by what you just said.” He smirked some, giving his experienced face a hint of boyish charm. He extended his hand toward her, the sleeve of his red and tan flannel shirt was rolled to his forearm, the hand itself was rough and calloused along the pads of his palm. “My name is Rhett, Rhett Colton.” A grin spread across his face, giving him a remarkably friendly but rugged appearance, his other hand held his hat at his side. “Maybe we could help each other out of this mess,” he commented before nodding to the ice cream. His voice was deep but traveled well over the others.