It was around four o'clock on Friday afternoon when Bonnie made her way into the butcher shop. She knew that Mr. Kaufman would be closing the store soon in preparation for the Sabbath and it would give her a chance to ask to Brendan to escort her home with the order for the Wentworths. It was also a good opportunity to speak with Brendan about Bridget and what the Wentworths expected of him.
When she got inside, she could see that it was still busy with customers getting in their last minute orders so that they could have meat over the week. It was a little bit inconvenient that the only butcher shop in Kalispell was run by a Jewish family and it wouldn't be open again until Monday morning. She knew that people were used it but that could change if Kaufman deemed Brendan worthy enough to run the shop for a few hours on Saturday.
As she waited, Bonnie acknowledged one or two people she did know from church but that was about it. Having to spend all of her time taking care of three people prevented her from socialising as much as she would like to. However, there was good reason to think that the situation would probably change sometime soon in the future, if not for Bridget but for herself.
Brendan saw Bonnie come in, but didn't have time to do more than make eye contact and give her a little nod. Friday afternoons were always a mad rush as everyone tried to get their meat for Sunday dinner, and it was some time before he was able to bid good day to the last customer before Bonnie.
He hurried out from behind the counter, slipped past Bonnie, and flipped the sign on the door from "Open" to "Closed." They'd done enough business that day that he figured Mr. Kaufman wouldn't mind him closing just a wee bit early to accommodate the Wentworths, who were regular and well-paying customers.
"Howdy, Miss Bonnie." He beckoned her up to the counter as he returned to his position by the register. "What can I get for ya?"
What he really wanted to do was ask about Bridget, but it would be better to get past the pleasantries and get the Wenworth's order taken first. Then he could talk about Bridget. Hopefully Bonnie's order would be more straightforward than the first time she'd come to the butcher shop.
A grin played around Brendan's lips as he thought back to Bonnie's first visit when she'd been trying to test him. Now that he knew who she worked for, he still tried to be on his best behavior around her, but felt more at ease after taking afternoon tea at the Wentworth's with her and Bridget.
Bonnie handed over the slip of paper with the Wentworths' order. As she waited for him to fulfill it, she couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor fellow. Here was working for a future with Bridget that now would probably never come. Her employers had advised her that morning of their decision to send Bridget to a private clinic back East was a bit of a surprised but in a way it wasn't.
Even though they had been impressed by Brendan's dedication to Bridget, they knew that he didn't have the means or the time to really take care of her. So much was unknown about Bridget's condition that they couldn't trust her in his hands despite how much he claimed to love her.
As Brendan continued putting the order together, Bonnie took a deep breath. She had volunteered to do this chore instead of Missus Jefferson, so that she could give Brendan some advanced warning of what was to come. Part of her, also knew that when Missus Wentworth gave her the meat order, she knew what Bonnie was going to do. Even though she didn't say much Missus Wentworth indicated that she understood and in a way gave her a blessing to do so.
However, what she had to say wasn't meant to be said inside a cold and dark butcher shop. "Brendan, when you are finished, could you please help me carry this order back to the Wentworths?"
@ [Bailey
Brendan skimmed the paper Bonnie had handed him -- he was getting the hang of reading bit by bit -- and started gathering the meat he would need to make up the order. The Wentworths were good customers, always ordering nice quantities of meat and always paying their tab consistently.
As he was wrapping the last of the meat, Bonnie had a request: carry the meat back to the Wentworths. It was a request that he'd be glad to grant. Any chance to be near Bridget, even if he didn't get to see her, was one he would take. "Sure thing," he said amiably.
He popped into the back to tell Mr. Kaufman that he was carrying meat home for the Wentworths, then grabbed a wooden crate and came back to the front. After stacking all of the Wentworth's meat inside carefully, he hefted the crate and headed for the front door, bumping it open with his hip.
"After you, Miss Bonnie," he said as he held the door with his foot. Something about Bonnie made him want to act more like a gentleman. Maybe it was just that she was very pretty, or maybe it was that she had a say about whether he and Bridget could see each other on a more regular basis and he wanted to impress her for that reason.
But whatever it was, he stood straight and alert as she passed by to go out onto the boardwalk.
Bonnie smiled graciously as she walked through the door. The afternoons were a bit cooler now and she was glad that the Wentworths had a good and sturdy house which would make the winter bearable. Unfortunately, the winter also meant that she would not see much of Mike Wentworth, as it was a long way to the Lost Lake ranch and the snow would make it even harder for him to come into town. Perhaps, it was a good thing, as she wasn't sure how she actually felt about him. He was nice and she liked him but to make it more than that would not be wise, as she hardly knew anything about him. Building her hopes and dreams on a man she only saw for a couple of hours at most once a week frightened her a little.
Seeing that Brendan had successfully manoeuvered the door and had followed her outside, she began to start slowly walking back to her employer's home. She wasn't quite sure how to start the conversation she wanted to have with him and for a moment she wondered how he would take it. There was no doubt that he would probably be upset but maybe over time he would come to see that this might be the best option that Bridget had for living a fulfilling life.
When they were within sight of the Wentworth house, she stopped and said, "Brendan, there's something you need to know before we go any further."
@ [Bailey
Brendan was ambling contentedly along beside Bonnie, enjoying the crisp air, when she suddenly paused. He stopped too, shifting the crate around in his arms. Something in Bonnie's tone sent a chill of foreboding through him, but as he searched her face for clues, he found none. Not that he was an expert in reading facial cues anyway, but Bridget's nurse didn't give away much.
He inclined his head slightly. "What is it?"
Maybe she was going to tell him that Bridget wasn't up for a visitor that day. That would be fine; he could see her again some other day. Or maybe -- his heart thumped -- maybe she was going to say that Bridget was sick again. Surely not. The poor girl had been through enough without getting sick again. Her pretty red hair was just beginning to grow back.
"There's something you should know, and I guess that's there no way to easy way to say this," Bonnie said solemnly.
Realising that what she just said might be taken the wrong way by Brendan, she quickly continued, "First all, the Wentworths were impressed with your devotion to Bridget but they feel, well...well that Bridget needs more help than anybody here can offer her. There's so much we don't know about her condition or what it is exactly. Sometimes she seems to be fine, despite her problems but then are other times when she is so distant and disconnected from what is going on around her."
She sighed, "The Wentworths feel that she might get worse and so they have sent for a doctor they know from back east to come and assess the situation. Apparently, he's had experience with other people who have had something similar to what Bridget is suffering from."
@ [Bailey
By now Brendan was almost bursting with curiosity and uncertainty. Bonnie wasn't going to come out and say she had feelings for him, was she? That would be ridiculous, for a capable nurse like her to feel anything for him, but that almost sounded like the way the conversation was going. Thankfully, a moment later she ended the suspense. It wasn't anything to do with Bonnie, it was about Bridget. That was a relief, at least, but Bonnie's words were less comforting.
Brendan's heart plummeted. He wasn't good enough. Hurt flashed across his face, and even a split second of anger sparked in his eyes, but he wrapped his fingers tightly around the wooden slats of the crate he still held in his arms and swallowed hard as he listened to the rest of what Bonnie had to say.
Another doctor's opinion was good, wasn't it? Then why was there still that feeling of unease lurking in his stomach? "That's...that's good, right?" he said finally, locking eyes with Bonnie. "That means he can tell me how to take care of her. When's he coming?"
Bonnie sighed as she realised Brendan couldn't quite understand what she was trying to tell him or maybe he did and he was in a state of denial. Whatever it was, Bonnie knew that she had to be more upfront with him.
"He will be here within the next week or two," she said solemnly, "In a way, it is a good thing as Mr. Wentworth says that he is more knowledgeable in things that affect the mind. The doctor and his wife own a sanitorium where they look after people like Bridget. If the doctor deems that Bridget needs the treatment and rest that they offer to give her a better life..."
She took a step forward, "She will then go back with them."
@ [Bailey
Finally Bonnie’s words broke through Brendan’s confusion. “You mean he’ll take her away.”
He swallowed hard and gripped the crate even more tightly as his desire to keep Bridget here with him warred with his desire to give her the best of everything. It wasn’t fair. He’d given up so much to prove himself and to be near her, and now everything might go away just because of some doctor from back east.
But…Brendan knew nothing about Bridget’s condition. He didn’t even know how to take care of her if she had a seizure. And if her condition did mean she’d die young, as Crabbe had thought it would, he wouldn’t know what to do to prevent it. He couldn’t even prevent the Wentworths from sending Bridget away if that was what they decided to do.
Helplessness washed over him. He set the crate down, rubbed his hands across his face and through his hair in an attempt to wipe away some of the defeat and anger that had tensed him up, and looked up at the sky, muttering an expletive. As soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered that Bonnie was watching.
“Sorry, Miss Campbell.” He darted an apologetic glance in her direction and picked up the crate again, his movements wooden. “I know it ain’t your fault. You’re just the messenger. I guess…” He swallowed again. “Guess it’s better to know now than…when it happens.”
He squinted up at Bridget’s window, then looked back at Bonnie. “Does she know?”