Posted January 22, 2021 | Clara Redmond Lutz
Suddenly Jacob reminded her of her kid brother when he got caught doing something stupid, something he knew was wrong. He shoved his hands in his pockets and had a sad puppy look as he admitted, “I guess that was pretty stupid of me.”
"I meant what I said by boundaries, apparently unlike you," Clara wasn't angry, more like disappointed.
“I’m sorry, Clara, that was unforgivable. I can’t expect you to forget it: I can only beg you to try and find it in your heart to forgive me ..." and the boy proceeded to unleash a profuse tide of further apologies and regrets.
Apparently he was convinced this was going to be his one and only chance to be this close to her and had not wanted to miss that golden opportunity? And of course he laid it on thick too with the most sweet compliments about her beauty and even more than that, he thought her 'intelligent, interesting, and wonderful'. She had her doubts about the interesting and wonderful parts but at least he recognized how smart she was. She prided herself on her intelligence though she realized menfolk often had little interest in that quality in a woman.
She huffed a bit though at his attempt at 'funny'. No one thought her funny. Even she conceded that weakness, "I doubt that."
“And I just ruined any chance of getting to know that person as a … well, as a real friend, what with my…” he rolled his eyes at himself “…’romantical ways’. So, it looks like I swapped one regret for another. Well, that’s life, I guess.”
"Oh Jacob," she sighed, he was trying so hard and he practically oozed sincerity. Or so she wanted to believe.
“I’d better take you back to the dance” he said, then added rather stiffly, “I’m really, genuinely sorry for my ungentlemanly conduct Miss Redmond, and I honestly hope I haven’t ruined your evening too badly.”
Gosh sakes, the boy could be as bad as Arabella as far as letting a person get a word in edgewise. Well, she was determined to have a say in all this sudden drama now too.
"Jacob, stop! Hold your horses once. Let me talk for a bit, please?" Clara paused for effect but moved on fast enough, lest he start up again.
"First of all, it is not romantic unless both persons agree to it. I was not asked nor had I agreed," she would start with a mild correction. But she did not want to browbeat him with criticism, although in truth that was something she was pretty good at.
"I have no idea why you thought this would be the only time we might see each other or be in each other's company? We both live just outside Kalispell, we are not that far apart. Especially now that we have met. I, for one, would welcome a chance for future opportunities to spend time with you. "
"And what you did was hardly 'unforgiveable'. I have already forgiven you. That said - and listen carefully - I fully expect to have a say in any future romantic attempts on your part. If we are really to be - as you just said - friends, then I think I deserve that level of respect."
Oh she could say more but she stopped then, allowing her points to sink in (hopefully) and (again hopefully) Jacob would agree with her viewpoint. She liked the boy, she really did.
Posted January 22, 2021 | Benjamin Barlow
“Only the best!” Messalina confirmed and shooting a sideways glance to make sure Ralph wasn’t listening, added “On the house, I reckon you’ve probably earned it.” She handed him a double.
Benjamin smiled, "Why thank you and I would agree." He took a sip first, yes it was the good stuff or at least damn good enough to fool him.
In the meantime the girl was chattering away, some of these men knew her (Benjamin did not like to think just how they knew her but none of his business he told himself). Then she started in on pointing out various menfolk and disparaging them with no sense of overstepping boundaries. He could only hope this did not start an incident. Benjamin made a point of pretending not to even hear all this gossip but just tried to enjoy his drink. This liquor was far too good to simply gulp down, it was to be savored.
Messalina interrupted this detailed character assassination of all the loyal saloon customers in the tent with a question for the military man.
“Say Cap’n, I’ve been reading about this big expedition against the Indians coming up, are any of you boys up at the Fort going to be part of this ‘Montana Column’ that they’re talking about?”
"Honestly, ma'am, I do not know. Such planning is above my pay grade. Though even if I did, it is not permissable to discuss military operations with the general public," Benjamin remained polite but firm.
"Yes, Dear"
Posted January 23, 2021 | Jacob Lutz
Well, the Lutz boy had laid his cards on the table, made his apologies and was now ready to face the consequences. What was the saying “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”? Well, he’d just have to see if that was true as he would no doubt go over and dissect his botched attempt at romance in his mind over the next few days. And weeks. And years. But Clara was about to throw him a lifeline.
"Jacob, stop! Hold your horses once. Let me talk for a bit, please?" Clara paused for effect but moved on fast enough, lest he start up again.
“Soft, she speaks!” whispered Jacob to himself: his words had tumbled out but now they were spent, he was more than willing to gaze on Clara and listen to the sylphlike golden tinkle of her voice.
"First of all, it is not romantic unless both persons agree to it. I was not asked nor had I agreed," she would start with a mild correction. But she did not want to browbeat him with criticism, although in truth that was something she was pretty good at.
Jacob nodded in silent assent to this first admonition, though he couldn’t help imagining how lame it would have sounded if he had indeed asked the girl, in a formal manner, ‘may I kiss you at this time Miss Redmond, and if so, could you please indicate precisely whereabouts on your pretty little person and how passionately said kiss may be placed?’ But he knew enough to keep quiet right now.
"I have no idea why you thought this would be the only time we might see each other or be in each other's company? We both live just outside Kalispell, we are not that far apart. Especially now that we have met. I, for one, would welcome a chance for future opportunities to spend time with you. "
He nodded again. “You’re right.” He said sheepishly. Of course, she wasn’t – he’d been trying for months to get a chance to speak to her, but a combination of bad luck, his own business on the farm and sheer nervousness had always banjaxed each and every opportunity. The one time he had managed to speak to her, all his clever lines had been forgotten and he’d only just managed to stammer out ‘another slice of treacle tart please.’
"And what you did was hardly 'unforgiveable'. I have already forgiven you. That said - and listen carefully - I fully expect to have a say in any future romantic attempts on your part. If we are really to be - as you just said - friends, then I think I deserve that level of respect."
He was about to say something grand and heartfelt and expressive of his absolute and hopeless devotion to her, but he knew now that that wouldn’t do: the last thing this girl wanted was a love-sick pup throwing himself at her feet and kissing the hem of her dress. She was a farm girl and was used to farmer’s ways and that’s how he’d have to woo her.
He stuck out his hand.
“It’s a deal.” He said, as if he was agreeing to sell her twenty bushels of corn at 2 cents on the pound.
“You know, I should have realized that you’re not the ‘Venus’ type at all, Clara, you’re much more like Diana, she was the Goddess of the moon, and she was intelligent as well as pretty, and handy with the shooting irons too, just like you are, I hear.” He said, indicating with a nod of his head the celestial object the viewing of which was the ostensible reason they were out here in the first place.
“Mind you, when a feller tried that mushy kissing stuff on her, she was a lot less understanding than you’ve been with me: she turned him into a stag and set her hounds on him. Tore that poor love-sick fool to shreds.” He patted himself all over. “I’m doing pretty well compared to him.” He joked about 'that mushy stuff', to mask his own aching heart.
“So, what’s your Pa planning to plant in that big north field of his, this Fall?” he asked, steering away from the subject of love.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted January 23, 2021 | Arabella Mudd
Arabella didn’t even notice that the Captain and Messalina were having their own conversation as she loudly continued to paint portraits of the fellows in the tent.
“An’ that’s Brendan Connolly. He’s new round these parts, but judgin’ by the way he’s knockin’ ‘em back over there, he’s probably a toper too; so I reckon I’ll be seein’ a lot of him in the saloon. He has trouble talkin’ to women: y’know, always puttin’ his foot in his mouth, but I give him a few pointers and seem to ‘ve fixed him up all right.” She blathered on until she realised that the army man wasn’t listening to her and she had to reclaim him off of Cookie.
"Honestly, ma'am, I do not know. Such planning is above my pay grade. Though even if I did, it is not permissable to discuss military operations with the general public," Benjamin remained polite but firm.
“Oh, he can’t tell you military secrets, Cookie, you might be a Injun spy!” she butted in. “Now Cap, come and meet some of these fellers…” she grabbed him by the arm again and pulled him toward where the two cowboys from the rival ranches were situated.
“Lookee here Cap’n, this here’s Mr Connolly and Mr Wentworth. Now Charlie here, you should try and get him to join your army, he’s about the bravest fellow I know. The other evening in the saloon, I asked if anyone would take me and my friend Bridget up to the Mission by the Lake tomorrow … she’s a catholic …” she whispered the last bit like she was telling him some dreadful secret about the girl.
“… and all the other fellers there was too scared because of the Injuns bein’ on the warpath and they might get scalped. But Mr. Charles Wentworth Jnr stood up and said ‘I ain’t scared of no Injuns, I’ll accompany you two young ladies on your religious visit!’ So he’s takin’ us tomorrow, bright and early at 8am.”
She then let go of the Captain’s arm and strode over to Charlie and slapped him on the shoulder with a look of misty, tearful admiration in her eyes. “Charlie, you’re the bravest man I know!” she sighed, knowing very well that, as per usual, the youngest Wentworth son had been 'three sheets to the wind' that night and probably couldn’t remember a single thing about what he’d said or done.
It was sort of a fib she was telling, but all for a good cause, so that made it all right.
Retired Characters and NPC Writer.
Posted January 23, 2021
Jay did not trust the old lady as far as he could throw her. He was pretty sure that, once the fence was completed she'd find something new to blackmail him with. It was better than running from the law, though.
"Good night, Mrs. Miggins." He replied and pulled the front door close. Then he walked along the sidewalk with the odd glance back to make sure she really left, which she did.
From afar he could hear the music, talk and fun, which people were having. Maybe he could still have a bit with Addy, not some one legged over eager gal.
As he returned, he had a good look around to see where she was.
I took an oath for this job. The oath says bring him in. That's what I'll do.
Posted January 24, 2021 | Charlie Wentworth
Charlie was about to head back to the bar for the next round of beers when he was accosted by Arabella and some army dude. He and Brendan had been participating in a chugging contest with some of the other men gathered around them. It was his turn to go and buy beer for what was either the fourth or fifth round of the competition, he couldn't quite remember. For all he knew there could have been a lot more rounds but right now he didn't care.
“Lookee here Cap’n, this here’s Mr Connolly and Mr Wentworth. Now Charlie here, you should try and get him to join your army, he’s about the bravest fellow I know. The other evening in the saloon, I asked if anyone would take me and my friend Bridget up to the Mission by the Lake tomorrow … she’s a catholic …” she whispered the last bit like she was telling him some dreadful secret about the girl.
“… and all the other fellers there was too scared because of the Injuns bein’ on the warpath and they might get scalped. But Mr. Charles Wentworth Jnr stood up and said ‘I ain’t scared of no Injuns, I’ll accompany you two young ladies on your religious visit!’ So he’s takin’ us tomorrow, bright and early at 8am.”
She then let go of the Captain’s arm and strode over to Charlie and slapped him on the shoulder with a look of misty, tearful admiration in her eyes. “Charlie, you’re the bravest man I know!” she sighed, knowing very well that, as per usual, the youngest Wentworth son had been 'three sheets to the wind' that night and probably couldn’t remember a single thing about what he’d said or done.
"Uh?" Charlie replied, for a moment not knowing quite to say. She was saying something about him being the bravest and indians, but since he wasn't in a position to argue, he just nodded his head, "That's right I did say that I would...at least I think I did."
At this point he was having a hard time remembering what he did that morning, let alone the last time in was in the Stardust Saloon, which had been nearly a week ago. If truth be told he had difficulties recalling anything he said or did when he was really drunk, so all he could do was take Arabella's word that he had indeed promised to take her wherever she wanted to go. It was either that or look like a coward in front of the army man.
Posted January 24, 2021 | Benjamin Barlow
So now he was being practically dragged toward some of those self same cowboys she had just maligned. By now the military man in him was getting pretty tired of being 'hoohrahed' by a little girl but the gentleman in him didn't yet have the heart to simply say 'no'. He was getting to that point though.
Arabella left him and latched onto a tall young cowpoke who from one glance one could see was drunk and busy getting drunker. At least she left him, Benjamin noted with approval. The girl proceeded to buttering the fellow up and talking about his bravery regarding Indians and on and on. Fine, maybe the girl would glue herself to that unlucky fellow's arm.
"Excuse me, everyone," he nodded to the cowboys, "Don't want to break up your fun, gents."
Then he turned and headed the opposite direction. Might be time to head back to the fort.
Posted January 25, 2021 | Clara Redmond Lutz
He stuck out his hand.
“It’s a deal.”
Clara seemed surprised by the offer of a handshake on the agreement but extended hers for a shake. For such a scrawny fellow, he had a good grip to him.
"Very well," she nodded.
“You know, I should have realized that you’re not the ‘Venus’ type at all, Clara, you’re much more like Diana, she was the Goddess of the moon, and she was intelligent as well as pretty, and handy with the shooting irons too, just like you are, I hear.” He said, indicating with a nod of his head the celestial object the viewing of which was the ostensible reason they were out here in the first place.
The boy was back to talking a mix of the planets and Greek gods. Clara couldn't help but wonder where he got all that from? Not that it was a bad thing. If nothing else it indicated he was quite a reader. Just as she was, not that she read books about those subjects. He was less knowledgeable about her though.
"I am hardly handy with guns. I know how to use them, father taught me that much, but I have never shot so much as a squirrel let alone a human being," she informed him.
“Mind you, when a feller tried that mushy kissing stuff on her, she was a lot less understanding than you’ve been with me: she turned him into a stag and set her hounds on him. Tore that poor love-sick fool to shreds.” He patted himself all over. “I’m doing pretty well compared to him.”
"Diana sounds like she had temper issues," Clara quipped in that dry manner of hers, no smile.
“So, what’s your Pa planning to plant in that big north field of his, this Fall?” he asked, steering away from the subject of love.
"Fall? It is April, we are concentrating on our spring planting. Corn, beans, some wheat. Perhaps we shall do lettuce and cabbage in the fall, not my decision to make," Clara answered.
"But that big north field, that is for corn during the summer," she added.
"Yes, Dear"
Posted January 25, 2021 | Jacob Lutz
"I am hardly handy with guns. I know how to use them, father taught me that much, but I have never shot so much as a squirrel let alone a human being," she informed him.
“Oh! That’s not what I hear…er, I mean, you should come hunting with me sometime, then you’d really be like Diana.” He said. The Reb maintained that Clara Redmond was a dead shot and had winged several of Steelgrave's men - only sparing their lives to avoid trouble with the law. However, he didn’t want to keep going on about what Arabella had told him. Number One, she was clearly an unreliable and over zealous source, and Two, his sister had advised him never to keep piping on about other girls when you were talking to one particular girl.
“Mind you, when a feller tried that mushy kissing stuff on her, she was a lot less understanding than you’ve been with me: she turned him into a stag and set her hounds on him. Tore that poor love-sick fool to shreds.” He patted himself all over. “I’m doing pretty well compared to him.”
"Diana sounds like she had temper issues," Clara quipped in that dry manner of hers, no smile
“Ha!” he laughed. “Dry. Very dry.”
Dry. Oh, that reminded him...
“So, what’s your Pa planning to plant in that big north field of his, this Fall?” he asked, steering away from the subject of love.
"Fall? It is April, we are concentrating on our spring planting. Corn, beans, some wheat. Perhaps we shall do lettuce and cabbage in the fall, not my decision to make," Clara answered.
“Uh huh.” He nodded approvingly.
"But that big north field, that is for corn during the summer," she added.
“That’s what I wondered.” He said seriously, something was obviously bothering him. “You might want to tell your Pa that, well, a few years ago…” he looked like he was about to tell her that there was a dead body buried there “… I was passing by that field and I noticed it’s liable to flooding come Fall. Course, we had a passing dry September last year. Still, made me wonder if he’d ever dabbled in asparagus, your Pa. They do say asparagus loves wet soil.”
Oh Lord, he realised that he’d swung too far the other way now. Asparagus indeed. He needed to talk about something that was dear the radiant Clara’s heart, but not too intrusive a subject.
“Read any good books lately?” he asked, inspired, again, by something the Reb had told him about the girl’s great ‘book learnin’ and interest in the written word.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Posted January 25, 2021 | Arabella Mudd
"Uh?" Charlie replied, for a moment not knowing quite to say. She was saying something about him being the bravest and indians, but since he wasn't in a position to argue, he just nodded his head, "That's right I did say that I would...at least I think I did."
Arabella looked like the cat that got the cream - Charlie had swallowed her story: hook, line and sinker! She and Bridget would be going to the Ball, er, Mission. But for every Up there was always a Down: all of a sudden, the Captain was sounding the retreat.
"Excuse me, everyone," he nodded to the cowboys, "Don't want to break up your fun, gents."
Then he turned and headed the opposite direction. Might be time to head back to the fort.
Arabella only had time to give a sad salute and mutter “Bye Captain…” Why did this always happen?
She lifted her arm and, in an incredibly unladylike but powerful bit of mummery, pretended to sniff underneath it, before turning to Brendan and Charlie.
“Do I smell or sumthin?! My men always run away from me!” she cried puzzled and frowny, her hands on her hips. The skinny teenager rounded on the two of them, as the nearest of the blotto throng. “I mean, look at me: I can sing, I can play the pianna and tell funny jokes; I can dance, I can turn cartwheels; I’m interestin’ to talk to, I’m… pretty.” Her voice faltered at the last part, but she rallied and frowned again “What wrong with all o’ you fellers anyhow?!” she demanded and then looked down at their empty glasses.
“What is it, boys, five beers?” she asked, seemingly recovered from her rant, now she’d got it all off her chest. Without thinking, she’d slipped into pot girl mode, like they were all back in the Saloon. Well that was one thing, in the saloon she was a Princess: laughing and joking with the drunken cowboys, sassing them and getting sassed back, banging out a few tunes on the Old Joanna. Sure, Ms Devereau was in charge, but she was the one who played the floor, and there was no competition to drag attention away from her there.
Boy, was she in for a nasty shock.