"Well, Miss Mudd now that you have an event on your social calendar and will have plenty of time to get ready for it.  I know how important it is for a young lady to be well advised in advance of any occasion.  My sister would sometimes take the whole winter to arrange her wardrobe for spring gatherings."

Arabella’s eyes brightened at the mention of the man’s sister.

“Aw, Mr. Wentworth, does your sister live local? Will she be at the Occasion?”

She shrugged. “I ain’t got a sister, or a brother now, or a Mammy or a Pappy. I think I got some kinfolk in Virginia, but I don’t know where exactly.” She stated matter-of-factly. “That’s where I’m from, proper Virginia, that is, not Occupied Virginia. I’m from the Old Dominion. That’s what we call it.”

She suddenly realized that she was holding the skillet parts and that she was running late for her errand to the blacksmith.

“O Lor’! I gotta get me to the smith! Now, Mr. Wentworth, don’t you forget me: Arabella Mudd, Miss Arabella Sumpter Mudd, care of The Kitchen, The Stardust Saloon, Kalispell, Montana Territories!” she informed him, like he didn’t know the name of the town which his own Hotel was situated in. Still, better safe than sorry.

After she had bidden the nice Mr. Wentworth farewell, she had positively floated on air to the blacksmiths who, fortunately, wasn’t too busy and was able to fix the skillet handle pretty darn lickety-split. She had quizzed the somewhat sickly-looking old man about Mr. Wentworth and whether he had any brothers, cousins or friends who looked similar to him and were at the Whitefish disaster, but to little profit.

The Blacksmith - who had turned out to be called Mr. Black after all (or was it Mr. Smith? She had forgotten which about two seconds after leaving the place) – was too bothered to listen to her question or answer it properly, he was all het up about a rumor that someone had been spreading about the town that his horseshoes were below par and he had been ripping off his customers. It was true that he was finding the work difficult to manage, what with his recent serious illness, and his dearly beloved wife passing away just the previous Fall, and with his 20 twenty year old son, who was supposed to help him in the work, being a little simple and only having the mind of a five year old. And now this!

“My horseshoes ain’t too thick, and they ain’t too thin!” was about all that Arabella could get out of him.

Oh well, the morning so far had been far from a bust! She had met Mr. Wentworth, and now knew someone who knew who her rescuer was, looked mighty like him … and who had a sister who lived in the same city that her rescuer hailed from! That last little nugget of information had been pure gold.

Also, this same Mr. Wentworth was going to give her an invitation to an Occasion! She wasn’t quite sure what an Occasion consisted of, or what a body did exactly when they went to one, but if it was going to take place The Most Beautiful Building in the World, it should be pretty fancy, and she’d need some fancier duds than the smock she was wearing, if she didn’t want to fish up there looking like ‘Annie from the Pickle Boat’.

In fact, the only downside to the whole thing was that, on careful reflection and taking into account Mr. Wentworth’s attempts to thwart her finding the man she sought, contrasted with his overwhelming kindness in inviting her to his Occasion, well, it led to one, undeniable conclusion: the poor feller had clearly fallen head over heels in love with her!