Time marches on and things often do not stay the same, for two Kalispell denizens recent events brought real sorrow. First week of this winter month two departures from the town to far off destinations changed their world. For Brendan, poor sweet but physically and mentally challenged Bridget left for the far East coast. Not of her own accord of course as she had little say in her life and with reason too, she was usually incapable of even the basics of life without the help and kindness of her caretakers.
The Wentworths had been good caretakers indeed, they had done their very best for the girl. They felt though perhaps there might be others and places where Bridget might be treated by real experts in the medical field. And the Wentworths had money, they could afford the costs of such care. After many letters and telegrams back East, contacts were established and finally it was decided Bridget would journey all the way to New York City where she would enter a private clinic run by a noted expert in the field of such difficult cases as hers. This institution even dispatched an intern doctor to travel to Kalispell to escort the girl on her long train ride East. It was a bittersweet affair. To those who knew her, were close to her, she was such a dear soul, she would be missed but hopefully someday she might return.....better for it. However doubtful it seemed.
For Brendan, it had been crushing news but he also realized it was best for Bridget and he could not be selfish about her. When the stagecoach pulled away from the station, he had to wonder if the girl would even truly remember him with the passing of time. But as for him, he'd never forget her. His world was suddenly a darker place.
Caroline too had a jolt in her life when Lt. Greene, the young gentleman officer who she had been seeing regularly for some months, glumly informed her that he had been given transfer papers out of Montana to a new far off posting in New Mexico. Of course this sort of thing happened all the time in the military, people who wanted to put down roots in a place should never join the Army. Greene had known it could happen, actually had warned her right around the same time he first began getting more serious about her. He had even asked if she might be interested in marrying him for then she could accompany him to any new posting. He had not reckoned on Caroline's strong belief she did not ever wish to marry. In fact she revealed one reason to him she seldom ever told anyone. So the two of them continued but knew in the end, it would not be permanent. Nonetheless, it was sad day when it all became real. They had one last week together before he departed for his new posting. She waved him goodbye and that was that. She doubted they'd ever see each other again. For the dashing young lieutenant was a great catch, he'd find himself a wife someday soon. He deserved it too. He should never have been stuck with the likes of her, a saloon gal.
Now as the pair strolled on the boardwalk, ignoring the cold, they took comfort in their own past with each other. As long as they had each other, even if only as friends, they would not be alone.
Caroline glanced at him, "Say...where you grew up, did it ever get this damned cold? I was brought up in Chicago as a girl so I'm more used to it but I've always hated winter."
Brendan had his shoulders hunched against the chilly air that wanted to slide down his coat collar and steal his breath away. Part of him wanted to do something crazy, like start a ruckus in the saloon, just so he'd be able to feel something, even if it was a temporary rush of adrenaline or the pain of bruising his knuckles on someone else's face. And another part of him just wanted to find some back alleyway, curl up against the wall, and let the snow drift over him.
He hadn't been able to say goodbye the way he would have liked, but he'd gotten to spend a few minutes in peace with Bridget before her departure and they'd shared one last kiss. As he and Caroline were walking, he'd been replaying the memory of her carefully climbing into the stagecoach that would take her and the intern doctor to the nearest train station, the huge wave she'd given from the window while he'd had to stand by and watch.
"Huh?" It took him a minute to register Caroline's question. He hadn't thought about home in a long time, so he had to think back to his childhood winters in Mississippi. "Nah," he said slowly. "Wasn't this cold. Heck, some winters we don't even get snow down there."
Montana did have fearsome winters, but being as close to Flathead as Kalispell was, the winter was a wee bit milder than it could have been. Still colder than Mississippi, though. Caroline was right. It was too damn cold.
"Huh?" It took him a minute to register Caroline's question. "Nah," he said slowly. "Wasn't this cold. Heck, some winters we don't even get snow down there."
"Oh...alright. Not that you told me all that much, mister, where did you live when you were younger?" Caroline grinned at him, he never did say.
"Or is it some kind of secret? If so you can trust little 'ol me, I won't tell a soul," she teased.
The goal...OK her goal for asking for this boardwalk saunter in this cold hell was to try and cheer him up some. She was hurting too but she also knew you just had to keep going, living your life. You only got one.
Caroline pointed out that they didn't really know each other that well. And it was true, but you didn't have to know someone very well to know they were a true friend, like Caroline. Although they'd had their disagreements, especially concerning Bridget, they were still friends. Maybe this time around they'd be able to open up to each other more and strengthen the friendship they'd already build.
Brendan grinned at Caroline, but his heart wasn't in it. "Not a secret. I grew up in Mississippi. That's why Arabella calls me that."
Darn Arabella, who'd gotten him involved with Bridget in the first place. Not that he still wouldn't have gotten involved with her on his own, but Arabella had helped him correspond with the redhead and had encouraged him to spend time with her.
He was the one who'd gone and made a mess of things that fateful day. Maybe if he'd taken things slower, Crabbe would still be alive, Bridget wouldn't have had those seizures or gotten sick, and she'd still be here with him. But maybes were just that: maybes.
He was alive in the here and now, even if he didn't feel very much like being alive.
"Not a secret. I grew up in Mississippi. That's why Arabella calls me that."
"Ahhh well, since Arabella left the saloon I don't see or hear her much anymore. So I did not know that. A southerner huh? You must really hate this winter weather. I was born in Chicago and I hate it," Caroline commented.
An old woman passed by them on the boardwalk, she was going the other direction. Her head was wrapped in scarf on top of a hat. She did not say anything or even look, intent on getting to wherever she was heading and out of the cold. Caroline had to smile.
"Think that is the first time she did not give me the skunk eye. First time she saw me, she even called me...what was it? Oh yeah, 'instrument of Satan'. Too cold I guess for fault finding," the saloon girl actually sounded amused by it all.
"Hate ain't a strong enough word." Brendan scowled as his breath fogged the air in front of him. He loathed the cold, abhorred it -- or he would if he knew what those words meant. The only upside to Montana's winters was that they were drier than Mississippi's. At milder temperatures, the cold didn't ache in your bones so much. But in the dead of winter, the icy Montana winds would make your face raw faster than getting dragged through the desert.
As a woman passed them, bundled up against the cold, Brendan braced himself for one of the inevitable nasty glances Caroline always got. But there was none this time. The older woman's name for Caroline did actually elicit a chuckle from Brendan. "I bet Satan would love to fiddle around with you," he said with a grin, then held up his mittened hands placatingly. "No offense. He'd have to get up early in the mornin' to trick you into lettin' him close to you."
Caroline had a heap of common sense when it came to people -- something Brendan lacked -- and there were times when he asked himself what he'd done to deserve her friendship. He hadn't been able to come with an answer that made sense.
Brendan at least broke into a smile.
"I bet Satan would love to fiddle around with you," he said with a grin, then held up his mittened hands placatingly. "No offense. He'd have to get up early in the mornin' to trick you into lettin' him close to you."
Caroline gave him a narrow eyed glare but it was not serious, "I beg your pardon. Lumping me in with his sort. Yer lucky I'm in a good mood or I might have up and belted you a good one, Brendan Connolly."
"But nahh, Satan, he ain't my type. Never cared for horns and that pointed tail. Ugh!," she then grinned.
"No, my type are military officers who then have to go gallivantin' all over this country chasing fame and glory and hoping they don't do a Custer," she reasoned.
"Oh yeah, and out of work cowpokes, who sleep on my bedroom floor. Leastwise I always pick the handsome ones," she smiled up at the taller man.
Brendan stiffened a little when Caroline referred to Lt. Greene. Having heard from Arabella about the saloon singer's excursions and escapades with the soldier -- he hadn't necessarily wanted to hear, but when it came to Arabella she was going to say what was on her mind -- he couldn't help feeling a little envious of the lieutenant. Caroline's former beau -- if he could be called that -- was everything Brendan wasn't: blond, well-dressed, disciplined, and he even had a pretty glamorous lifestyle compared to a cowpoke's.
Brendan couldn't help feeling a little glad the lieutenant was gone. But although Caroline was one of the most captivating women he'd ever laid eyes on, his heart was still with Bridget, so he couldn't be too jealous.
"Well, this handsome cowpoke's got a job now, and a place to live," he said mildly. How long Mrs. Wigfall would let that continue now that his crusade for Bridget's hand was over was uncertain, but he was making the best of his landlady's generosity for now and trying to avoid being caught alone with her.
"But hey, if you ever want someone to warm up your floor for you -- or, heck, maybe your bed?" He nudged her. "I'm your man."
"Well, this handsome cowpoke's got a job now, and a place to live," he said mildly.
"Yes indeedy, you do! And I am proud of you for that job, it showed me you were serious about .........well, you know," Caroline instantly regretting reminding him of poor Bridget. She also missed the unfortunate girl. But it wasn't the same as Brendan did, she realized that.
"But hey, if you ever want someone to warm up your floor for you -- or, heck, maybe your bed?" He nudged her. "I'm your man."
"Oh really? Well, you can lie on my floor any time you need to," she informed him with a smile.
"Who sez I'm even interested in you bein' my bed partner? You sure are a confident one."
Brendan's momentary good mood faded into melancholy again at being reminded why he'd gotten a job in the first place. Bridget. It was nice to have a job that didn't involve long, hard hours like cow-punching did, but he missed the open range. For Bridget, it would have been worth giving up all his freedom. But now...was it worth it?
He managed a grin to respond to Caroline's joking manner. Maybe he was a little overconfident, but the two of them were both alone, so why shouldn't they find comfort in each other if they both felt like it some night? He shrugged, his eyes twinkling a little. "I notice you didn't say no."
Before she could go on and actually say no, he exhaled loudly. "You want some coffee or somethin'? We could head to the diner, get out of the cold?"