Rebecca nodded, "Yes, I understand that.  I have already sent for a nurse to take care of another lady who currently living with us.  Her duties will now also include looking after Bridget.  So you need not worry...Bridget will get all the care and attention she needs."

"But she don't need no nurse. There ain't nuthin' wrong with her..." said Arabella, quietly and not sounding too self assured: it was hard to boast of Bridget's resilience and self sufficiency when she was lying unconscious on the floor smelling of pee.

"Alright, I get it. I hope you don't plan on cutting her off from the people she already knows and is fond of?  She'd get powerful lonely."

"I have no intentions of cutting off anybody unless it is warranted."

“Hold up!” He jumped onto the tail end of Caroline’s sentence. Scowling at Rebecca, he questioned, “How come Bridget goes to you? I’m gonna take care of her.”

Arabella wanted to join in and stick up for Brendan's claim but when she opened her mouth nothing came out: maybe she realised that in her heart of hearts that, well, although she loved the handsome, socially clumsey cowpoke as much as she could love any man, he could hardly take care of himself, let alone Bridget. And, to be honest, neither Caroline or herself were in a position to offer long-term, lifelong care of the simple-minded ginger waif. 

She bit her knuckles and prayed to Jesus to whisper a hint in her ear as to what was best to do.

Looking at the young man, Rebecca sighed.  It was clear that they all cared deeply for Bridget but the question was were they capable of taking care of her.  The answer was probably no since Mr. Crabbe had appointed her and Charles as guardians.  "As to why Bridget is coming with us, that is a legal matter, which would probably be better answered by Mr. Reeve or by my husband."

"Oh, Mrs Wentworth! How wonderful for Bridget to be looked after by you and your family. I know she thinks the world of Mr Wentworth and havin' that nurse on call'll be just dandy when she gets her funny turns like this. An' please do call on Mr Connolly here and Miss Mundee an' me and Miriam Kaufmann and Jemima Wigfall and, oh, ALL of Bridget's friends when ever you need any little bit of help with her." she said in a sort of strange breathless way. 

What Jesus had told her was this: 'Make not thyself part of the problem, my child, maketh thyself part of the solution: fight not against the Wentworth woman, maketh thyself her ally and thou wilt have thy will. So mote it be'. Jesus always spoke to her in that sort of language. She didn't know why he couldn't just speak plain American to her; he'd probably just been reading the Bible too much, she figured.

She only hoped Brendan and Caroline didn't just think she was being some kind of traitor.

"Oooh, I think she's comin' round!" she then squeeked, and got the potty ready in case Bridget was sick.

Caroline had questions and then Brendan closed in all upset at this sudden announcement for Bridget's future. This woman and her husband, a banker, were now appointed to care for and take charge of the poor young thing. Words flew back and forth.

That's when Arabella jumped in with her take on things and it was all rather stunning and ...sensible too, the latter not something one heard all that often coming out of the girl. Maybe she was finally growing up.

"Oh, Mrs Wentworth! How wonderful for Bridget to be looked after by you and your family. I know she thinks the world of Mr Wentworth and havin' that nurse on call'll be just dandy when she gets her funny turns like this. An' please do call on Mr Connolly here and Miss Mundee an' me and Miriam Kaufmann and Jemima Wigfall and, oh, ALL of Bridget's friends when ever you need any little bit of help with her." she said in a sort of strange breathless way. 

Well, Caroline could not argue with that plus she was also impressed this rich couple had a nurse hired for this sort of thing too. And finally there was one last crucial argument in the Wentworth's favor.

"Arabella's right. This is what is best for Bridget," Caroline now spoke up again, very calm, matter of fact.

She turned to Brendan, "I know yer upset, hon, but use common sense. None of us, certainly not you, can properly take care of Bridget. And lovin' her is grand but taking care of her is the most important thing for now. Besides, Lorenzo was her caretaker and this is his final wish and we should respect that. I know I do."

She wasn't quite done yet with Brendan however.

"And don't you forget what I told you earlier. You need...you have to get a job - a regular payin' job before you can even begin to think about a future with you and that gal. I meant what I said then and nothin's changed. "

Then it was back to Mrs. Wentworth, "Guess that's settled then. Yer in charge now. Just let us know how we can help whenever it's needed - like Ara said." 

"Oooh, I think she's comin' round!" Arabella then squeeked, and got the potty ready in case Bridget was sick.

Caroline stepped back, not her area of expertise and she was glad of it too.

Brendan thought for sure that at least Arabella might agree that he should be the one to take care of Bridget, but the girl started gushing about how wonderful the arrangement with the Wentworths would be. What had Caroline called Arabella that one time? A snake. Once a snake, always a snake.

He rounded on Arabella, preparing to tell her to shut up. It wasn't wonderful; it was horrible. But Caroline's reaction made him realize that maybe Arabella wasn't being a snake...maybe she was just being sensible. The Wentworths were bankers, and bankers meant money. They could care for Bridget better than almost anyone else in Kalispell. Caroline still wasn't going to let up on the job issue, either. Maybe he should have thought more about Gilcrest's message from the Evergreen.

"All right, all right." He held up his hands toward Caroline. "Common sense ain't one of my strengths," he mumbled, retreating back to the bed and admitting defeat.

Any man with common sense wouldn't have gotten in this mess at all. He wouldn't have fallen for Bridget, slept with her, and then refused to marry her just because some Chinese man told him not to. He shook his head and rubbed a hand wearily over his face.

As Arabella announced that Bridget was reviving, he pulled himself together to be comforting or to hold Bridget's hair back if she got sick.

Somehow, Jonah had managed to decipher the old man's frantic ramblings, and after finishing up stitches on little Ebenezer Ermentrout's knee, he grabbed his bag and hurried to the aid of Miss Bridgit at the funeral parlor. He hoped it was nothing more than an emotional outburst, although from the description he'd gotten, it could very well be the end of the poor child.

As he stepped into the lower floor of the building, he barely managed to dodge Miss Arabella and her bowl o' puke, although he did hold the door open for her so she could duck beneath his arm with her burden.

He didn't bother to see what happened beyond that, he'd rather not know, and he had to reconsider his life choices. 

Shaking his head, he made his way upstairs, taking in the scene there as he asked, "What happened?" At least Miss Bridget seemed to be alive, kudos to her!

Brendan's cheeks grew warm at the way Bridget was staring at him: like he was an angel or something. Well, he certainly wasn't an angel, and she wasn't either, with her face all dirty. He reached out and swiped his sleeve gingerly across her face, trying not to grimace.

It wasn't as though his shirt was immaculately clean; in fact, it was still the same shirt that had Crabbe's dried blood on it from the previous evening. But blood was different than the remains of whatever Bridget had eaten last.

He looked up, eyebrows drawing together, as Doctor Danforth approached. Although he knew that the doctor was there to help, some part of him didn't want the man near Bridget. He darted a not-very-charitable glance at Mrs. Wentworth. Long-term damage? Muscle damage? Wasn't Bridget damaged enough already?

He eased away from Bridget slightly to give the doctor space, but hovered nearby like a mother heifer with her calf. "How d'you know if it caused damage?"

Jonah nodded to Mrs. Wentworth, moving in to kneel beside the young woman. "Has she done this before?" There were some people who had convulsions on an ongoing basis, some more frequently than others, and those were just a matter of living with it. Then there were seizures that were brought on by any number of things, and trying to find the root cause could be impossible.

"Miss Monahan..." He reached to stop her as she grabbed for Brandon, but then decided against it. Having someone to offer support could only help, and it was a good sign that she was alert enough to know who was around her. 

"How are you feeling? Your legs hurt?" Careful to make sure that the material of her skirt was between his hands and her skin, he gently palpated the palpate-able parts of her legs. Nothing seemed amiss.

"I believe she'll be all right," he commented, looking up at Mrs. Wentworth, "she'll need rest, will probably be pretty tired for a day or two. You can try chamomile or valerian tea for her nerves."

Brendan jumped in to answer the doctor's question to Mrs. Wentworth on whether Bridget had had spells like this before. The woman had been in the room while Arabella had been talking about it, but there was no reason he couldn't answer for her. He was still feeling ungenerous even though Mrs. Wentworth had really done him a favor by agreeing to take Bridget. But he didn't see it that way, of course.

"Accordin' to Arabella Mudd, she has. She knows Bridget best now..." He couldn't say now that Crabbe's dead in case it set Bridget off, so he just shrugged. "She might be able to tell you more." 

He was about to flash Mrs. Wentworth a triumphant glance when he was startled by Bridget's exclamation and apparent pain. Oh, that was right. Arabella had said sometimes her leg hurt even though there wasn't any leg to hurt. He slid an arm around her and shushed her, rubbing her back soothingly. "Hey, it's all right. Doctor Danforth's here. Hush."

He watched suspiciously as the doctor felt Bridget's legs gently, and waited until he'd given his verdict. Nothing serious, then. He exhaled in relief. But Doctor Danforth hadn't mentioned what to do if Bridget's leg kept hurting. Brendan cleared his throat. "Arabella said sometimes Bridget gets pain in her bad leg. What about that?"