Posted January 2, 2021 | Emeline Pike
“A shame, nice looking young lady.” Barnabas said as they paused. “Going to make a baker out of her, are you? Seems to me she has the knack for it, maybe not as good as you, but then you’ve had practice.” He chuckled a bit at his own humor.
"She's very good at it." Emeline hadn't really thought much on Clara's future even though she'd considered the girl to manage the cafe at some point. "I know she enjoys it, but I see her more as a World traveler, exploring exotic lands." She chuckled, then shrugged. "Of course, that isn't highly likely, but at least she isn't going to be swept off her feet by the first cowboy who comes along."
Too many young girls were anxious to be married that they didn't put thought into who they were marrying, and after the charm wore off found themselves in a less than ideal situation, missing the love they'd been seeking. She really wasn't worried about that for Clara, though, the girl had good sense.
“The young man, seems to have her attention, an’ perty much that’s a good thing, I’d say. A bit self-conscious maybe, but it looks to me like it’s goin’ just fine, well, from here it does.” He looked at her a long moment and added, “Don’t know about you bein’ blessed, but I’d say I surely have been.”
"Well, of course you have!" She gave him a cheeky grin. "I was fighting off suitors just waiting for you! But then, I not only have a fine, handsome, brave man, but one who can do dishes as well!" She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "That's exactly what I was hoping for!"
Posted January 3, 2021 | Lorenzo Crabbe
"She's a big girl. Bridget is quite good at taking care of herself, I reckon. She's having fun...dancing....chatting...you know. Go join her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
Yes, she was a big girl, that’s what he was worried about. “Nah, that kind of a bean feast is more fer respectable folks, I ain’t about to sully it with my sorry presence.” Lorenzo muttered.
"I must be on my way home now, Mr. Crabbe. Early morning tomorrow."
The shifty operator shrugged. “Oh well, have it your way. Guess we’re both a couple of pikers. But listen, come around tomorrow if you can, I got a new ‘business opportunity’ on the stove, just about to come to the bubble if ya get m’drift. Should keep us in healthy funds until the mining and theatre plans’re nicely cooked.”
Yes, if his idea to become Kalispell’s first professional photographer was to come to fruition, he’d need some technical assistance with backdrops and the like: both for portrait photographs of the living and, in a period where a lot of people didn’t shell out for a image to remember a relative by until they up and died, the dead. In fact, he was hoping Jay could help him construct some kind of an armature that would help keep both the quick and the deceased in a stiff position (no pun intended), while the exposure cap stayed off the camera.
He stood considering his plans as Jay departed.
He’d already taken a few pictures and developed them and was now hungry to make some profit on his investment of time and money on the project.
Want... dolls!
Posted January 3, 2021 | Bridget Monahan
Bridget didn’t find anything strange about standing or sitting with someone and not saying anything, they did it all the time at home: the silence only occasionally broken by Mr. Crabbe muttering something to himself or Mr. Fa humming a strange dissonant tune of the orient. She didn’t quite get that it wasn’t the thing to do at a social gathering. She had trouble enough saying out loud things that did interest her, the concept of small talk quite eluded her carrot topped noggin.
Luckily, the gallant Captain was more than capable of saving the day.
"I say ....miss....seems like they are about ready to play another number. May I ask you for a dance?" he suddenly decided.
Bridget nodded enthusiastically, then reached up again to confirm “If is slow.”
"By the way, I am Captain Barlow but you can just call me Benjamin, I'm not on duty right now," he added in that calm relaxed tone of voice of his.
This allowed Bridget to do her party piece and she was getting better at it all the time with the practice she’d been having lately, and she screwed her eyes shut tight and proudly announced out loud, though in a pretty weedy voice “My name is Bridget Monahan!” She opened her eyes again to see if the handsome officer was impressed. She wanted to add that she was off duty, too, but decided to quit while she was ahead.
The band struck up something that was slow enough for her to handle without mishap and they took the floor. Bridget was learning something: men were all very different. Even in a slow waltz, Brendan had felt light, young, effusive and gay; there was something more solid and strangely purposeful about dancing with Captain Barlow: a feeling of great powerful reserves being carefully harnessed and repressed. This was dancing with a man, a serious man. Dancing with Brendan and Jay had been fun, dancing with Captain Barlow felt more important. And, whatever he said, she couldn't help the feeling that this man was never off duty.
Posted January 3, 2021 | Barnabas Pike
"Well, of course you have!" She gave him a cheeky grin. "I was fighting off suitors just waiting for you! But then, I not only have a fine, handsome, brave man, but one who can do dishes as well!" She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "That's exactly what I was hoping for!"
“Fightin’ ‘em off, were ya?” There was a crooked grin and an evil twinkle in his eyes. “Dish doin’ was a job I was doin’ ta help you out. I’m a sworn in deputy fer the township of Kalispell Montana, an’, whats more, I am the construction boss fer the house and home we’ll share, ‘sides, truth be told I was washin’ them dishes just to be near to ya.” He said, “So don’t let it go to yer head. There’ll be work a plenty to go around once we’re hitched an’ moved in.”
Posted January 4, 2021 | Brendan Connolly
Whew. Clara didn't seem to be bothered by his comment, but she did have a question of her own for him.
"Do you think it is too much? I had my doubts but Emeline was confident it would do the trick if she did my hair and dressed me in this fine dress. So I trusted to her experience with men and agreed."
At Clara's question, Brendan took the opportunity to study her closely. Not that he hadn't already, but this time he could do it without worrying about her saying he was looking too long. After taking in the whole picture she presented, he took a closer look at the way her hair hung over her shoulders and the way the dress hugged and draped her body. Yeah, it did the trick.
"Weeeellll," he said slowly, sipping his punch again, "it sure is a fine dress. And your sure does look nice undone. You're the prettiest girl I've danced with tonight."
He gave Clara a smile that perfectly matched the flattery he was serving up. What he'd said was true, but he'd only danced with Arabella and Bridget and neither of them could compare to the way Clara looked right now, although Bridget's fancy dress put her second in the running in Brendan's mind.
"So...I don't think it's too much." He grinned suddenly as a thought popped into his head, hesitated for only a second, then took the risk and said it. "I bet Billy an' Greer would say it's too much, though."
Posted January 4, 2021 | Benjamin Barlow
He decided he would at least ask the young miss if she wanted to dance, Benjamin had enjoyed his first dance and wished to do some more. It was a social after all, so be sociable. She agreed without hesitation but one stipulation, "If is slow."
"You're in luck, it's a waltz. Quite basic really," he recognized the tune.
Before they got out onto the dance floor he quickly introduced himself, which seemed to be the polite thing to do. She returned the favor in a strange sort of fashion though.
Bridget screwed her eyes shut tight and proudly announced out loud, though in a pretty weedy voice “My name is Bridget Monahan!”
Then opened her eyes, now that was indeed odd. Benjamin was by now fully aware the young lady was not normal...well, she had some issues. But no matter, it was just a dance and she seemed pleasant enough if child-like.
"Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Monahan. We better get on out there then, the musicians aren't waiting for anyone," he smiled and escorted her on out among the other assembling dancers. He could tell she had a bit of a hitch in her walk, maybe a past (or even recent) injury or maybe a birth defect? He would need to be careful.
Posted January 4, 2021 | Clara Redmond Lutz
Well, she went and asked him for his opinion so now Clara braced herself for his take on her gussying up for this dance, she had little doubt he would be honest (some would say blunt) about it, he was certainly not shy to voice his opinions. She could hardly be critical about that in the young man though given her own proclivity to tell anyone and everyone just what she thought of things. She stood there then as his eyes went up and down studying her, it was nerve-wracking but a part of the process she convinced herself.
"Weeeellll," he said slowly, sipping his punch again, "it sure is a fine dress. And your hair sure does look nice undone. You're the prettiest girl I've danced with tonight."
OK, so Clara had his verdict and it was oh so positive. A silly romantic sort of girl might just go and melt on the spot but Clara prided herself on not being the sort to get all emotional. However warm it made her feel to be complimented just then.
"Why, thank you, Brendan," she actually smiled.
But then he had to go and ruin the moment of course.
"So...I don't think it's too much." He grinned suddenly, hesitated for only a second, then said, "I bet Billy an' Greer would say it's too much, though."
Why on earth would he bring up those two ruffians? What did it matter what they thought? Yet that was what was running thru his mind? Clara's smile vanished.
"Ahhh, yes! Your friends from Evergreen. The ones who tried to shoot me from ambuscade. The ones you continue to work with and befriend despite their murderous proclivities. And to think I did my best with the deputy to keep you out of trouble before. Even though you were obviously fine with condoning their actions...." she paused just for a second before she went any further and it became a full fledged tirade. That would be unseemly especially in this public event.
"Oh never mind. You do not really understand or you simply do not care. So, Brendan, I thank you for the dance and for your compliments. Have a nice evening. I must go back to the bakery table in case I am needed there," she kept her voice firm and as unemotional as she could.
But she certainly was not going to get drawn into a debate on the issue so she spun about and headed for the forementioned table.
Want... dolls!
Posted January 5, 2021 | Bridget Monahan
"Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Monahan. We better get on out there then, the musicians aren't waiting for anyone," he smiled and escorted her on out among the other assembling dancers. He could tell she had a bit of a hitch in her walk, maybe a past (or even recent) injury or maybe a birth defect? He would need to be careful.
Bridget bit her bottom lip and smiled as if in wonderment, being led out for the third time that evening for a dance by a handsome man. Well, to be fair, it was wonderment: this was a fantastic, almost dreamlike, climax to what had been, for her, an amazing year. To think, a little more than twelve months ago she had been a virtual slave, unwashed and unkempt, hopping around on one leg and a crude crutch, begging on the streets of some God forsaken mining town, and not even getting to keep what she begged. That she had to turn over to the doctor who, true, had once saved her life, but now said he owned her until she could pay off the medical bill plus the accumulated credit of ten years.
It had been the only life she’d ever known, other than a few vague and scrappy memories from before the accident. The doctor had a dog, whom he treated better than he treated Bridget: and, truth to tell, he didn’t treat the dog particularly well. Thus it had been a surprise when, dirty and unkempt, and sporting a black eye where the drunken, angry doctor had slapped her across the face for not bringing enough money in after a day of begging, the man had tried to do what he did.
That attack had hurt her, terrified her, in ways that made the doctor’s cruelties seem paltry. Furthermore, the man who had saved her from the assault didn’t seem a lot better, he was just after her attacker for some reason: beat him half senseless with a lead-topped walking stick, demanding to know where some other man was, Mercier or something, and had then shot her assailant in cold blood. Hardly a white knight in shining armor, her Mr. Crabbe. But she had followed him anyway, and she had found herself here, in a dreamland called Kalispell, where she had fancy dresses, fancy dolls, fancy new leg, even friends and best of all, she was completely free of grey-backs.
She tried to forget the past, and bask in the wonderful present. She whispered a question in the burly officer’s ear.
“You fight injuns?”
Posted January 7, 2021 | Brendan Connolly
Clara seemed to appreciate his compliment, because she broke into a genuine smile that made Brendan smile too. But once again, the smile was doomed to disappear because of his comment about Billy and Greer. That was all it took to set Clara off.
"Ahhh, yes! Your friends from Evergreen. The ones who tried to shoot me from ambuscade. The ones you continue to work with and befriend despite their murderous proclivities. And to think I did my best with the deputy to keep you out of trouble before. Even though you were obviously fine with condoning their actions...."
"No, I..." Brendan only understood half of the words coming out of Clara's mouth, so it was hard to mount a defense. What was ambuscade? And what were proclivities? But he understood that mentioning Billy and Greer had been a bad idea, and that she was regretting defending him in front of the deputy. "Clara..."
"Oh nevermind. You do not really understand or you simply do not care. So, Brendan, I thank you for the dance and for your compliments. Have a nice evening. I must go back to the bakery table in case I am needed there."
With that, Clara turned and headed for the bakery table. Her voice had been curiously steady, given how upset she seemed to be. Brendan put his hands on his hips, frowning. Now why did she have to go and do that? He had been about to ask her to join the waltz that was currently going on.
"Enjoy standin' around, then!" he called after her, then turned and headed for the beer tent. That was mean-spirited, but he didn't see why Clara had gotten so upset about what he had said. After Arabella and Clara, he sure did need a drink.
Inside the beer tent, he got what he had come for - a tall glass of foaming beer - and looked around to see who else was there. He spotted Charlie with a few other men who had to be Lost Lake hands. He walked over to the group of men and edged in beside Charlie.
"Howdy. Clara decided I wasn't good enough company for her, I guess."
Now, strictly speaking, that wasn't true, since it was his fault she was mad at him. But Brendan thought that Charlie just might be able to sympathize, given how quickly he had disappeared after Clara had started dancing with Brendan.
Posted January 7, 2021 | Benjamin Barlow
The young woman was obviously a mix of nervousness and happiness. The best Benjamin figured he could do was dance with her and try and put her at ease, let her enjoy herself. He wondered if she had family in attendance this night and if perhaps her parents or siblings might be keeping a watch over her from a distance. As they began to dance, those thoughts drifted off and he concentrated on the simple steps involved in this basic waltz. She had no trouble with it so it must have been slow enough to fit her request. Good.
She suddenly inquired in almost a whisper, “You fight injuns?”
"Yes, on occasion. It is part of the job, miss," he nodded but kept his answer simple enough.
He decided to ask her a question then and hope she did not think him prying, "So do you live in town or on one of the ranches, farms?"
She looked like a town person if he had to guess.