Retired Characters and NPC Writer.
Posted October 24, 2020
For a long time he had contemplated whether he should go to the dance or not. His gut screamed 'No, don't go! There will be someone, who recognizes you, someone, who has seen a wanted add somewhere. Don't be a fool."
But a fool he was, one that was starting to fall madly in love.
Addy had told him how much fun it would be and that it didn't matter that he hated crowds or couldn't dance or whatever excuse he had made up.
She seemed eager to go and she'd go without him and dance with whoever was there. Yep, that was Addy.
So the fool in love won over, Jay pulled out the shirt and pants, that she had bought him, slicked back his blonde hair and hoped to look as handsome as possible if he really tried to win her over with a dance.
When he arrived by foot he could hear the fiddle, singing, clapping and chatter from afar.
It took him a few moments to get over himself and actually enter and then he stood frozen at the entrance because he was overwhelmed. How much would he loved to just relax and join in the fun but his guard was up.
He searched her with his eyes, spotted a few towns people he knew, including the two teenage girls.
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
Adelaide Chapel | Posted October 25, 2020
She wasn't watching for him, really. After all, she had no reason to worry about if, or when, Jay got here, she had no ties on him, nor he her. Sure, they saw each other on occasion, and she counted him as a good friend, but he had his own life, was working steady, had a small room...
And he was just a friend, that was all...except that she couldn't get that Christmas kiss out of her mind, she often found herself wondering what he was doing, she went out of her way to run into him...
She just couldn't bring herself to think that she might be thinking of the man as more than a friend.
And no, her heart didn't skip when she spotted him by the door, and sure, she could still breathe. And maybe she'd have to admit that she really did care about him...care for him.
Aw, hell, Addy Chappel wasn't one to run from trouble, and Jack and love were both big trouble, and she'd face it head-on...
...Maybe.
She grinned, going right up to him and giving him a nod. "Good ta see ya, Jay...ya clean up real nice!" Reaching up, she brushed a bit of lint from his shoulder. "NIce duds, too. Real fine!"
Jonah Danforth | Posted October 25, 2020
As a town businessman, Jonah was expected to attend these sorts of things, or at least, that was his perception, and it wouldn't do any harm to show up, at least for a while. There would be good food, and hopefully the music would be tolerable, and he didn't mind the opportunity to promote Leah Steelgraves' ventures.
There were already dozens of folks there when he walked down from his house, and he stopped a few paces inside the door to get his bearings. But that only lasted a few seconds as he spotted Old Lady Walcher just a few yards away, her back to him as she chewed on some hapless person's ear. Good lord, but that lady could be a fright!
All of five feet and a grasshopper tall, and thin as a rail, she could put the wrath of God into even the most courageous of men, and she had no qualms in voicing her opinions, nor her decades of wisdom. And she loved to relay to the doctor all her aches, pains and woes...and that was the last thing he needed, so Jonah made a hasty withdrawal toward the stage.
Barnabas Pike | Posted October 25, 2020
[Effecting a junction between Pronto, Emeline, Clara, Brendan & Arabella/Bridget]
He tugged on his suspenders and gnawed on his lower lip. "Ohhhh...all right," he said finally, giving her a defeated look. "I'll go apologize to her if you'll put in a good word for me so I can get her for a dance or two."
Arabella gave a squeak of delight that the handsome cow puncher had seen sense and agreed to do exactly what she said, and in a transport of delight flung her arms around him. Maybe he had brains, as well as looks, after all! She untangled herself and thrust her arm through his: in part to lead him back to Clara (he might yet make a bolt for it, like an unbroken colt) but also as a symbol that they were in this together: he would do his part and she would do hers.
There was another person at the pie table now, and he was wearing a badge. Suddenly the penny dropped: that must be Ms Emeline’s beau! She thought she was getting hitched to that ancient scraggily grey haired Sherriff, this feller looked much more presentable! “I’ll take care of the rudifications!” she told Brendan, that way, he could concentrate on the apologies.
As they approached, she could hear Clara talking to a pie-stained Bridget, who was being dabbed clean by Ms Em.
"We worked together as a team on that. I got my love of baking from my mother when I got to help her bake things as a child," Clara quickly explained.
As if Bridget wasn’t being ‘unique and special’ enough already, Clara’s mention of her late mother drew the gaze of odd ginger lass away from the pretty farm-girl’s face and to a place, or rather a space, just to the right and behind of Clara’s head. She grinned with a look of recognition at the space and then back at Clara with those wide, hardly blinking blue eyes, smiling again in a sort of quiet comforting way, and nodded.
"You should try a cookie, too." suggested Emeline.
Bridget picked up a big one, and now stood holding half a slice of pie in one hand and a cookie in the other, wondering which one to eat next.
Pronto looked like he was about to speak, but Arabella got there ‘fustest with the mostest’.
“Pardon my intrusion Marshall!” she blurted out “But Mr. Connelly here’s got somethin’ to say to Clara here, and if he don’t bust it out now he never will!”
“Certainly, Ma’am, but I’m just the Deputy.” Unsure of what was transpiring, especially with the redhead who seemed to be fixated with his badge. He took a step aside.
Bridget didn’t take her eyes off Brendan while she shoved the cookie in her mouth and chewed off a big bite.
Emeline Pike | Posted October 25, 2020
Here's a story, of of the lovely Clara, who had an odd assortment of friends, all of them were eyeing pie, just like Bridget, and Pike was just confused. Then the girl named Arabella came right over, she was dragging along hapless Brendan, so he could confess his love. That's when Emeline just rolled her eyes, and that's the way they all became the Barn Dance Bunch! The Barn Dance Bunch! The Barn Dance Bunch! That's the way they became the Barn Dance Bunch!
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Oh, goodness, but it seemed that the adults and Clara were the only sane ones here...Brendan, it remained to be seen...
"Of course, Arabella, Brendan can have his say." Lordy, but the tribulations of being young! Emeline just hoped that the over-zealous Arabella didn't ruin things for Clara by putting the girl too much into the spotlight, or frightening off Brendan, once he had a chance to escape.
"Here now, Miss Bridget." She held a plate to the young lady. "Just put that pie here for now." While she didn't know the girl, nor what ailed her, she wanted to do what she could to help. For that matter, she certainly owed it to Clara to help her, so she looked over at Barnabas, hoping he would understand.
"Oh, I forgot to bring the cream, in case anyone wants some on their pie." She turned her attention to Arabella. "Could you help me with that, dear? Your friend Bridget can come, too, it will only take a few minutes..."
A few minutes that Clara could have alone with the young man, to at least work things out without Arabella's well-meaning enthusiasm. If Barnabas was brave enough to join her and the girls, would be his decision!
Brendan Connolly | Posted October 25, 2020
Brendan wasn't used to being led around by the arm, but he went along with it and let Arabella drag him over to where Clara and a few other people were standing. He didn't want to apologize with all those people standing around.
But fortunately, the woman Clara seemed to work with found a task for Arabella and the deputy didn't seem like he much cared what was said. He was more taken with Clara's employer. Bridget was still staring at him and nibbling on a cookie, though, and that was a little unnerving. Maybe he should apologize to her, too, while he was at it?
He cleared his throat and wished he had a hat to twist around in his hands. "Miss Redmond...I uh...I wanna apologize for the way things started between us. It...wern't my fault, but I wouldn't've wanted it to start that way. I didn't know we was on your pa's property, and if I had known, I wouldn't've ridden over."
He realized the palms of his hands were sweating and rubbed them nervously on the legs of his pants. If Bridget would just stop watching him, he wouldn't be so nervous. Maybe she would go off with Arabella and the nice lady who seemed to understand he didn't want a bunch of people standing around watching him.
"And I didn't mean for any of the rest of the stuff to happen. You know, the...the shootin'. That wasn't my fault, either. Like I done told you before, I was set up. It was near my first day on the job and I didn't know better."
He glanced at the deputy, painfully conscious of the tin star and the knowledge that there might be questions after mentioning shooting.
Clara Redmond-Lutz | Posted October 26, 2020
Well, if nothing else Bridget will at least be well fed before this was all over. Just then Arabella was back only she was half pulling a very nervous looking Brendan with her.
"Pardon my intrusion Marshall!” she blurted out “But Mr. Connelly here’s got somethin’ to say to Clara here, and if he don’t bust it out now he never will!”
Now what? Hadn't she made herself quite clear about how she felt about that Evergreen cowpoke. Pronto amiably backed off to allow him room and Emeline answered, "Of course, Arabella, Brendan can have his say."
Emeline also proved very aware that this little conversation between Brendan and her might be more comfortable without everyone standing there gawking and listening. The kindly woman now did her best to deflect Arabella, the deputy, and Bridget away from the farm girl and cowboy.
"Well, what do you have to say that is so important?" Clara stood there and was prepared to hear him out.
The young man cleared his throat, "Miss Redmond...I uh...I wanna apologize for the way things started between us. It...wern't my fault, but I wouldn't've wanted it to start that way. I didn't know we was on your pa's property, and if I had known, I wouldn't've ridden over."
Clara was so tempted to correct him more than once on his mangling of the grammar but kept her self control. Alright so he might even be telling the truth about how little he had known about the situation.
She would give him the benefit of the doubt there.
He continued, "And I didn't mean for any of the rest of the stuff to happen. You know, the...the shootin'. That wasn't my fault, either. Like I done told you before, I was set up. It was near my first day on the job and I didn't know better."
Clara took a breath then replied, "Very well, but say I do accept all you say is true right now. The fact remains someone took a rifle shot at me and I believe it was meant to kill me. I believe that to be attempted murder. And yet you still work there, side by side with whoever it was who tried to kill me. I am quite confident you did not try to turn the shooter into the lawful authorities because I heard nothing of the sort all winter. So while you may not have planned it or were ignorant of the situation you were ...as you say set up, you obviously still condone it by your actions. Or rather....lack of action."
Then she sighed, "Very well, you apologized even though I did not ask for one. Personally I think actions speak louder than words."
She realized she was speechifying and stopped then, he probably did not even get her point.
"So... is that it? Is that all you wanted to say to me?" Clara asked in a measured tone of voice.
Storyteller / Shared NPC
NPC: Ruth Johnson written by JulieS | Posted October 26, 2020
Ruth Johnson was standing off to the side watching with great interest with what was happening at Emeline Blakesley's baked goods table. She had just come over to get some pie for her and her husband, Luke but never quite made it to the table. She could hear what was going and thought it all as both funny and a bit strange. She had seen the redhead girl around town sometimes in the company of Lorenzo Crabbe, a man that was rumoured to be building some sort of house of ill-repute.
Another girl she recognised was Miss Mudd, who had appeared at the ladies' afternoon tea last week wearing some sort of military outfit. Mrs. Miggins had told her that the young girl had mislead her into believing the event was fancy dress. Miss Mudd, was dragging some man back to the table who then apologised to Clara. Clara Redmond then mentioned getting shot.
As she inched closer to the group to try and learn more, she was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw that it was Luke. He asked her if she could come over and meet his new boss Mr. Wentworth. Part of her wanted to stay on and keep listening but another part of didn't want to be seen as a busybody, so she nodded. The both of them went off leaving the odd bunch to their own devices.
"Everybody can feather their nest, but it's not just anybody that can lay an egg!"
Arabella Mudd | Posted October 26, 2020
When: Just before Brendan blows it with Clara. Present: Barn Dance Bunch: EB, BP, CR, BC, AM/BM.
Arabella had successfully steered Brendan to the pie table, so far so good.
With her prompting and guidance and mediation, she reckoned the feller would be able to make a suitably groveling apology which might even assuage the ire of the prickly Clara.
But then a lightning bolt from a deux ex machina, in the shape of Mrs Blakesley struck.
"Oh, I forgot to bring the cream, in case anyone wants some on their pie." She turned her attention to Arabella. "Could you help me with that, dear?”
“Huh!?” grunted Arabella. Oh that Ms. Em! Her timing was despicable!
“Ooohhh, errrr, I guess so!” she heard herself answer with a sinking feeling. She was about to launch Brendan into battle, and without her there to support him, she feared vastly for the outcome.
“Your friend Bridget can come, too, it will only take a few minutes..."
“Uh-uh! If she comes it’ll take a’ hour!” declared the southern girl. “Let’s just us two go, but let’s be quick! I got someone special I need to ask fer the first dance!”
As for Brendan, she could only slap him on the back and whisper a few last words of encouragement and advice. “Looks like you’re on your own, champ! Remember what I told ya: go in humble; apologize; shake hands and whatever ya do, don’t try to justificate yerself!”
She felt like she was sending a man into a major battle armed with a toothpick, and she could only heave a sad sigh for the poor doomed boy, as she went off with Emeline to get the cream.
"Er, would you fellers mind awfully standing to attention?"
Lt. Joseph W. Greene | Posted October 26, 2020
[Present: Ruth Johnson, Luke Johnson - but they don't know it!]
Jonah’s uniform was pristine, and he’d sent one of the men with any unnecessary impedimenta, his cloak, gloves, kepi and what have you, to the hotel so that he could roam untrammeled about the dance. He was hoping to see the attractive Saloon owner, Mrs Devereau, hereabouts, but then he saw another beauty, and one so serene his breath was winded right out of him.
It wasn’t just the prettiness of her face, the perfection of her figure, it was also her intriguing manner. She was watching the antics of a bunch of misfits around the table that was heavily loaded with delicious looking pies.
The young woman seemed fascinated, and there was a vivacity about her which gave him the impression that she wanted to join in whatever was going on, but was somehow held back by the dry stale laws of propriety.
He was drawn to her like a magnet. He found himself walking toward her, dragged in her direction by some unseen power: he was the moth, she was the flame.
He didn’t know what he was going to say, only that it would be natural and unstilted: usually he tried to think of some clever line to say in situations like these, but he knew he wouldn’t have to think of what to say… to her.
As she inched closer to the group to try and learn more, she was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw that it was Luke. He asked her if she could come over and meet his new boss Mr. Wentworth. Part of her wanted to stay on and keep listening but another part of didn't want to be seen as a busybody, so she nodded. The both of them went off leaving the odd bunch to their own devices.
Lieutenant Greene stopped dead in his tracks. As the short, dark haired man led her off, the light from the open barn doorway glinted on her wedding ring: it was a tiny little sparkle, but he was blinded by its cruel light.