"It's very..." Clara paused for the right word............garish? Nope, better not use that one.

"Unique," she settled for.

Bridget didn’t know what either word meant, but she had a habit of repeating words whether she understood them or not, and it was better that she walk up to a total stranger and bellow “You’re unique, he he!” than “You’re garish!!”

Clara filled the trusting innocent Bridget in with all the details of the wedding and made her smile with relief and happiness when she answered her question about the groom being her beau ideal Brendan Connolly.

"Oh no, hardly ....not him," Clara shook her head, she would leave out the grim details that Brendan's fellow cowpokes tried to shoot her while she conversed with the admittedly handsome but also obviously lacking in morals Brendan as he had not even seemed to be shocked by such a murderous act.

“Bridget marry Brendan!” came the optimistic reply to that nugget of information.

“His name is Jacob Lutz, you might have seen me dancing with him at the barn dance? He is a farmer, like my family,” Clara explained.

The girl with so much and so little gave a nod and smile to show that she remembered him, she remembered them. That dance had been magical, twirling in the arms of Brendan, her leg holding out, yes Clara and Jacob dancing like they were the only couple on the floor, Mr Pike’s shiny badge, Mrs Em’s tasty food.

She wondered if weddings were equally magical events.