Jack of Harts

I see Dawn DeMarco and Jesse every time I return to Earth. They’ve built a private Cowboy Country on their farm more tailored towards their misfits, but the rest of us are welcome to spend time there as well. Dawn staffed it with people from Camelot, as well as other members of the Society for Creative Anachronism. They made the farm an official Old West reenactment site, complete with a town church, general store, saloon, and all the other little things you expect to see in an Old West town, surrounded by the fields filled with winter wheat in spring and summer. They’ve even brought one of the local Indian Tribes into the act, and you can see their traders or raiders in and around town any day of the year. And yes, they do make money selling the experience to curious vacationers from the modern era. Dawn is the distinguished matron of the whole affair, and she makes everyone welcome whenever we show up to rest and relax from our travels.

Dawn DeMarco spends most of her time on Earth now. Kansas to be precise. On Jesse’s old farm. Their farm now. She never mastered the art of dressing like a Kansas farm wife, though. She could if she wanted to, but she has steadfastly remained on the side of holding onto as much of her home culture as she can. That has manifested in her always dressing up wherever she goes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a t-shirt and blue jeans, even when she goes out to do farm work. She’s got work dresses for that, so she doesn’t tear her dress dresses to ribbons while dealing with a stubborn cow or an angry chicken. Yes, she knows that blue jeans would be more practical, but there are some things she is just too stubborn to wear. And she’s infected the local farm wives with her fashion sense, to the mixed annoyance, bemusement, and approval of the local farmers.