"Mr. Pike is neither a drunkard nor a slouch," Emeline politely informed the young girl, wondering just who she was yammering on about. Goodness, but Arabella's jaw was getting plenty of exercise, and Emeline was still in a tizzy at it all! "And yes," she chuckled, "he will clean up for the wedding!"

"I haven't decided what to do with the cafe just yet," this she addressed to Clare. "I've been meaning to discuss it with you, but haven't had the opportunity." And it was not something she wanted to talk about with the well-meaning child there, especially since she still wasn't certain on her decision. When she and Barnabas had first talked about it at Christmas, she hadn't know Clare all that well, but in the following months, she'd found that the young lady was competent and mature beyond her years.

"At any rate, there will be plenty of notice once I make my decision, and that is still a while in coming, as the house is barely started...and we still need to be married."

Well if Emeline had hoped to keep her upcoming marriage a secret at least til closer to the actual event, letting it leak to Arabella ended any chance of that. Arabella's over the top enthusiastic response also portended she would no doubt jabber this news to everyone she would meet. And the girl just like that threw herself into the preparations quite uninvited by the woman too.

"Minnows? They are not fish, child," Clara rolled her eyes.

Clara now couldn't help but voice her concern about the diner and what was going to become of it. Left unsaid was what would happen to her job there, her livelihood. Clara couldn't help herself but to inquire on it.

"Oooh! I know!” shouted Arabella, jumping up and down again “Me and Clara can run it for ya! She can make the pies, and I can be out front, showin’ people to their seats and asking them what all they wanna be a-scoffing!”

"Hardly, we are not old enough, there is truly a lot of work involved," Clara was far more cirumspect on the matter.

"I haven't decided what to do with the cafe just yet," this Emeline addressed to Clara. "I've been meaning to discuss it with you, but haven't had the opportunity."

"Fair enough then. But yes, let us chat further - in privacy," Clara glanced at the younger girl after those words.

Minnows? They are not fish, child," Clara rolled her eyes.

“Aw, I know that, but I don’t know what baby Pikes is called!” countered the little chatterbox.

"Mr. Pike is neither a drunkard nor a slouch," Emeline politely informed the young girl, wondering just who she was yammering on about.  Goodness, but Arabella's jaw was getting plenty of exercise, and Emeline was still in a tizzy at it all!

“Oh, I know he ain’t a drinker!” replied Arabella, confused as to how that had come up, as she hadn’t said he was. “He don’t hardly never come into the saloon.”

"And yes," she chuckled, "he will clean up for the wedding!"

“Phew, that’s a relief!” beamed Arabella.

Then talk turned to the future of the diner, once Mr & Mrs Pike and all the putative little minnows were safely ensconced in their dream ranch.

"I haven't decided what to do with the cafe just yet," this she addressed to Clare.  "I've been meaning to discuss it with you, but haven't had the opportunity." 

"At any rate, there will be plenty of notice once I make my decision, and that is still a while in coming, as the house is barely started...and we still need to be married."

"Oooh! I know!” shouted Arabella, jumping up and down again “Me and Clara can run it for ya! She can make the pies, and I can be out front, showin’ people to their seats and asking them what all they wanna be a-scoffing!”

"Hardly, we are not old enough, there is truly a lot of work involved," Clara was far more cirumspect on the matter.

"Fair enough then. But yes, let us chat further - in privacy," Clara glanced at the younger girl after those words.

Arabella looked about the place suspiciously and then leaned in toward the other two womenfolk. “Good idea!” she whispered conspiratorially “We don’t know who might be listenin’ in right now!”

The conversation seemed to have reached an impasse, and when even Arabella didn’t have anything to say, it must be time to depart.

“Well, I’ll be seein’ ya pardners!” she suddenly yelped and flounced out the door, wondering who to tell first about the upcoming nuptials.

Oh...my...goodness..." Emily watched as Arabella flounced away, making certain that she had truly flounced and wasn't coming back, then she let out a breath and laughed. "Goodness, but she...takes a lot of energy! I pity the poor man who catches her eye when it's time."

Then she focused more on Clare. "I'm glad you'll be helping at the dance, your assistance here has been invaluable." The two worked well as a team, and Clare had shouldered a lot of responsibility. "I really can't imagine giving this place up, I love it here, and I've put in a lot of work, but once the ranch is ready, I'll have work to do there."

Smiling, she shook her head. "There's still plenty of time, and right now we need to concentrate on the dance. I'm thinking that it will be best to make a lot of small snacks that are simple to eat instead of something more like a meal...maybe smaller versions of our savory and fruit hand pies?"

Clara actually gave a sigh of relief as Arabella left the building. Glancing at Emeline her feelings were much the same.

"I agree. She means well but she wore me out when she stayed at the farm. She is the very epitome of the term 'chatterbox'," Clara nodded.

Emeline appreciated her agreeing to attend the dance to help with the work and threw her a compliment too. Though hardly necessary Clara was not averse to hearing praise, normal enough.

"You gave me an opportunity when you hired me, I take my job seriously," she assured the other woman.

"I really can't imagine giving this place up, I love it here, and I've put in a lot of work, but once the ranch is ready, I'll have work to do there."

"I suppose so. I have really enjoyed my time here too. The work is pleasant enough and best of all, I have gotten to know you," Clara complimented her back.

But for now they needed to come up with a plan for the dance. Emeline gave her take on it.

"Yes, I agree but might I also suggest baking some cookies. They would be easier to eat on the move, a few bites and they are gone. Everyone likes cookies," Clara suggested.

Brendan put the finishing touches on the mane of the small wooden horse he was carving. He knew it was going to be a long winter, but he didn't realize just how long. He'd taken up carving to pass the time that he and the rest of the hands spent cooped up in the bunkhouse. The first of his carvings had ended up as food for the fire, but as the months progressed, he had gotten better at it.

There was a commotion as the two hands who had been chosen to make the first trip into town came back into the bunkhouse, stamping sludge off their boots. They were grinning like Cheshire cats and obviously knew something that everyone else didn't.

Brendan tucked the horse under his pillow and slid down from the bed to join the rest of the hands in pestering the newcomers for information. Soon, it came out. There was going to be a dance in town. The room exploded as the men started speculating about the dance, mostly about who would go.

Somehow he found Billy in all the ruckus. Even though he was still a little sore about the joke the younger hand had played on him last year, they were still close enough to the same age that they had formed a sort of friendship. At least Brendan liked to think so.

"How are we gonna figure out who goes and who stays?"

There was bound to be conflict about the event. They were all going stir-crazy, and Brendan knew each man would want to go as badly as he did.

I suppose so. I have really enjoyed my time here too. The work is pleasant enough and best of all, I have gotten to know you," Clara complimented her back.

Emeline smiled and nodded, reflecting on how much she really had enjoyed having Clara around, having another female to chat freely with, and she didn't want to lose that.

"Yes, I agree but might I also suggest baking some cookies. They would be easier to eat on the move, a few bites and they are gone. Everyone likes cookies," Clara suggested.

"Cookies is a great idea," Emeline agreed, "probably better than fruit pies."  They'd be far less messy and easier to make without jams or preserves.  "Did you have any particular sorts in mind?" 

Cookies weren't often on the menu, and while Emeline had some choices in mind, she was wondering if Clara had some favorites she might want to try.

"Cookies is a great idea," Emeline agreed, "probably better than fruit pies. Did you have any particular sorts in mind?" 

"Less work especially considering this dance will probably have quite the crowd I would reckon," Clare nodded.

"I would suggest oatmeal cookies, easy ingredient naturally plus we could use some molasses or maple syrup to add flavor. Oh and my brother Wyatt can gather some nuts from the woods next to our property.  Then if you have any ginger about, we could make ginger snaps."

The men were already heading out of the bunkhouse to pester the foreman. Brendan glanced at them and them back at Billy, who was doubtful of his chances of going to the dance.

"You are a lazybones." He grinned and elbowed Billy in the ribs. It was easy to be lazy in the winter, but what he had seen of Billy before the snows came let him say that with complete confidence.

"And a'course I want to go. Who wouldn't? But as for gals, only one I know is the Redmond girl and I doubt she'd wanna dance with me."

If he ended up going and Clara was there, he'd probably ask her just to get her dander up. The thought made him grin more.