The likeness struck Ferdy immediately, which was something a gentleman did not mention in polite conversations. "So sorry to hear that. I, too, have had close female friends, such as your Mister Orr. The fact being I just left one, whom I missed the moment I left New Orleans. It is hard. Close friends like that are so hard to replace. I mean, yes, life does seem quite empty without them." He empathised with her, and there had been several in his past that had been precisely what was needed.

"My dear friend Worchester Pettigrew, for example, though not of the opposite sex, had been a ruthless competitorin the industry and we had near fisticuffs several times, until a tragedy struck. There was no one to come to his aid. Well, I stepped forward to help out, and we became the closest of friends after that." He explained as he admired her hideaway. A good place to get away from it all. He was certain that in time he would find a place of his own, with over a storefront or at a separate location, but he too would have such a nookl as she had. As he had had before.

"I did not mean to bring up unpleasant memories. Please excuse me for that. Now I noticed that Hector has an interest in the telegraph. Does he work at the office?" Which seemed a safe question to ask.

"But of course, Madam, it would be a pleasure," Ferdy said with a smile. "And why is the parlor taken up so? Is there not a more appropriate room to be used in that manner. I realize that Hector is your son, but, as you say, the other guests, I don't envy your dilemma."

"Well, he's been stuck in his bedroom for two weeks, I shall allow it this time, but from tomorrow on, we shall return to normal." she proclaimed.

"Forgive me, but your husband, is here in Kalispell? I don't mean to intrude."

"Who?" the dark haired woman, who had once been great beauty and who had withstood the ravages of time - all women's greatest enemy! - very well, looked completely bemused; then the light of realisation flickered in her eyes. "Oh! Him!" She gave a short, rather cruel, little laugh. "Hmph, he doesn't bother me much. Spends most of his time at the telegraph office. Ahhh, but I did have an interesting man in my life once, Mr Lyle: oh, nothing unseemly, I assure you..." she assured him "... just a platonic friend, but we were very close, emotionally, I'm sure a man of your discernment knows exactly what I mean..." she sighed wistfully. 

She swished over to a mantlepiece and took down an old tintype from some twenty years ago and showed it to Ferdinand. "Ahh, Mr Richard Orr, as first I knew him" she said, showing her visitor a picture of a man the exact spitting image of her son Hector! She brushed a tear from her eye. "It is almost a year since he died, Mr Lyle, but I still miss the manly presence of his visits to me. My little nook feels quite empty without him hereabouts."

Flip

"But of course, Madam, it would be a pleasure," Ferdy said with a smile. "And why is the parlor taken up so? Is there not a more appropriate room to be used in that manner. I realize that Hector is your son, but, as you say, the other guests, I don't envy your dilemma."

And the nurse, if in fact she actually had been capped by an accredited nursing school, of course, that was none of his affair. He found it interesting that Misses Wigfall had allowed the use of the room and a hospital suite. But then it was her house, guests or not. He smiled: "Forgive me, but your husband, is here in Kalispell? I don't mean to intrude."

"Perhaps, Misses Wigfall, we should take this moment to recuse ourselves elsewhere and allow the nurse to treat her patient." He suggested, seeing that Nurse Armentrout clearly did not want them present.

"Hmm, well come through to my private sitting room..." replied the boardinghouse mistress, leading Ferdy to yet another room off the front hall corridor, adding, once they were out of earshot "... but really, Mr Lyle, I can't have my parlour turned into a private hospital room with 'visiting hours only' - that room is for the use of all my guests, especially if they have visitors. Well, we shall let it pass this once. But really... I'll have to tell my daughter to have a word with that nurse."

They walked into a cosy sitting room. 

"Do have a seat, Mr Lyle. Do you care for a drink?... I mean a real drink?" She wasn't talking tea and lemonade here.

Flip 

"Nurse Armentrout, a pleasure, I'm sure, and not to worry, I will be happy to attend to your boots as soon as I am settled and set up." Ferdy said with a slight bow, "And we meant only for introductions, not to overstimulate the lad. Rest is by far the best medicine." And Mary Wigfall had been correct as to the nurse's appearance. She certainly did little improve it, and she most certainly could, which was painfully apparent.

Ferdinand Lyle had dabbled in a great deal of other things while designing and making gowns, which included what was being termed as cosmetology in the Crescent City. It seemed necessary to help the ladies with their beautification process, where needed, to enhance his work on the voluminous amount of fabrics used in the construction of the gowns the ladies would be wearing.

"Perhaps, Misses Wigfall, we should take this moment to recuse ourselves elsewhere and allow the nurse to treat her patient." He suggested, seeing that Nurse Armentrout clearly did not want them present.

"Hospitality. It's what Josiah had told me to expect should I think of venturing out here. That was early on when it was just his way of getting me interested in the place called Kalispell." She said, taking the offered nightgown. "I know that Josiah and Jonah do make house calls, and it is clear they want a rotation of us three for now, but knowing Josiah as I do, it will be more my turn than the other two, and really, that's fine."

It was all so new to her, the wide open spaces, the people, the lack of the everyday things she had become used to growing up in the city, such as indoor plumbing. But for her to be in Montana after Chicago was a thrill. The trip from Helena to this remote village with Addy had been the adventure of a lifetime for her, but just the run of the mill type of journey for the teamster.

"I would not trade this change for anything!" She stated firmly, "This is where I belong. I can do more good here than I ever could back in that city!" Which may or may not be true, but it was what she believed.

"Oh, well, Wyatt's my friend, his pa has a farm, and his sister runs the Lickskillet Cafe," Weedy explained, a little torn. 

Young Mr Patterson Forde nodded his comprehension. He'd never been in the place, and his mother, who was rather proud of her home cooked food, which was always available in quantity, would not have been happy to see him waste good money in obtaining a slice of pie elsewhere.

"I'll talk to him and see what he says, maybe after school tomorrow?"  He did hope that Forde Forde knew this wasn't real and wouldn't really hurt Wyatt.  "Maybe you can come by the school during lunch and we can talk to him?  He'd have to have some kind of advantage," he tried to negotiate, "since you're older and bigger?"

Forde was amused to see the lad was serious, but maintained a serious mien. 

"Ah, I am afraid that the press of business would preclude such a meeting at this present juncture; let us wait until we are actually aboard our Man-o-War to settle the matter: after all, as Captain, you may have other tests to put us through beyond the mere crossing of cutlasses: which of us can scale the rigging to the crow's next quicker, which of us can sew up the corpse of a shipmate, dead of the scurvy, in a canvas sheet the neater, which of us can deliver the black spot to Blind Pew the more deftly, which of us can slice the mainbrace most skillfully!" 

He wasn't sure exactly what splicing a mainbrace meant, but it sounded suitably piratical.

Forde wondered if this Wyatt person was as deluded as his friend Weedy or just humored the imaginative lad.

"I can certainly guarantee my superiority in the Sea Shanty sphere!" he declared, abandoning his flute to the top of the piano-forte and seating himself on the stool that his sister had occupied. He then played some impressively deep, minor chords and began to sing in a voice surprisingly basso profundo for a skinny looking young fellow:  

♬ Fifteen men on the dead man's chest—
...Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest—
...Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! ♬

Cicely rocked back and forth to the slow cadence of the shanty, and began to breath heavily. 

Bongo

"Oh, well, Wyatt's my friend, his pa has a farm, and his sister runs the Lickskillet Cafe," Weedy explained, a little torn.  While he wanted to stay loyal to his friend, the idea of a duel, even just a play one, was exciting and fun!

"I'll talk to him and see what he says, maybe after school tomorrow?"  He did hope that Forde Forde knew this wasn't real and wouldn't really hurt Wyatt.  "Maybe you can come by the school during lunch and we can talk to him?  He'd have to have some kind of advantage," he tried to negotiate, "since you're older and bigger?"  He hoped Wyatt would play along, this was more fun than girl stuff!