Once they had left the diner and were out on the boardwalk, it seemed like the tension vanished. Caroline was back to being all smiles as she walked with Brendan at her side. At one point a woman holding hands with a small girl, maybe 5-6 years old approached their direction then the two pairs passed each other. The woman made a point of not even looking at Caroline or Brendan but the little girl smiled and gave a little wave with her free hand. Caroline waved right back.
"Hey, who knows, maybe Clara's kid will end up liking you at least?" she asked teasingly. Clara did not seem the forgiving type.
"It looks like it's fixing to rain...........yet again. Fuckin' weather," she then grumbled.
"Let's go back to the saloon and then up to my room. We can talk in private there," she pointed out.
It didn't take Brendan long to shake off the tension from his encounter with Clara. The warmth of the coffee had put a little bit of life back into him, as had his curiosity over what sort of morbid secret Caroline was going to impart to him. And anyway, he never took anything in life too seriously -- or at least he hadn't in the past.
He grinned a little bit at the girl who waved at Caroline, waggling his mittened fingers to second Caroline's greeting.
"Hey, who knows, maybe Clara's kid will end up liking you at least?" Caroline asked teasingly.
"Ha!" Brendan's breath huffed out a cloud of scornful condensation. "If back in the diner was any indication, she'll make her kid hate me, too." It would be funny if Clara's baby took a shine to him, though. A sort of poetic justice. But justice, poetic or not, wasn't something that was very common in life.
With his arm tucked through Caroline's, they headed back for the saloon, arriving just as the clouds opened up with a chilling drizzle. Brendan pulled off his mittens as they went inside, nodding to Ralph as they made their way to the stairs that led to Caroline's bedroom.
Once inside, he shoved the door closed with his foot and glanced around the room. "I like what you've done with the place," he said lightly.
"Ha!" Brendan's breath huffed out a cloud of scornful condensation. "If back in the diner was any indication, she'll make her kid hate me, too."
"Well, don't worry about it. By the time the kid gets old enough to take revenge on you, you'll have forgotten all about it," Caroline joked.
Once inside the saloon, the pair acknowledged Ralph, as usual on duty behind the bar, and headed upstairs for her room. Later she would have to do a work shift but they had some few hours yet so no hurry. Besides her revelation wouldn't take long.
Once inside, Brendan shoved the door closed with his foot and glanced around the room. "I like what you've done with the place," he said lightly.
It definitely was not the tidiest of rooms, pretty obvious Caroline wasn't fond of hangers for one thing and the bed wasn't made. She turned to him.
"Oh shut up, you. I'm not much of a housekeeper, I admit. But Messalina comes in once and awhile and tidies up a bit, complaining all the while she does it. Secretly I think she doesn't mind doin' it though. She's a good friend."
Caroline removed her coat and threw it over a chair then plopped onto the bed.
"Make yerself comfortable. I got me a story to tell. And every word of it is true too," she announced.
Surveying the battleground that was Caroline's bedroom, Brendan grinned and shook his head. "You ain't a housekeeper at all." He shrugged out of his coat and hat, threw them over the same chair as Caroline's, and clambered onto the far side of Caroline's bed. Once there, he grabbed a pillow and scooted to the foot of the bed where he propped himself up with the pillow, stretched his legs out, and put his hands behind his head.
"So, what's the story?" he asked comfortably. If it was as bad as Caroline was making it out to be, he wanted to act nonchalant and help set her at ease if he could. Beneath his nonchalance, he did feel honored that Caroline would entrust another story about her past to him. She didn't open up to many people, and he was one of the lucky few.
Brendan made himself quite comfortable sprawled out on the bed, head propped by a pillow to hear her story. Caroline didn't mind. Wasn't the first time the man was in her bed, she figured it wouldn't be the last either.
"Alright, now so ya get it. You keep thinking I'm this little angel - you know, tough life, works in a tough line a work, but otherwise an innocent saintly sort. Boy, is that wrong," she started.
"Well, ya know I grew up in Chicago. I think ya know I grew up in a saloon raised by the saloon keeper and his wife. While I never did know for sure, I don't think they were my folks. She never wanted me to call her 'ma' or 'mother' just her first name. They were rough people and the saloon was in a real rough part of town. But they raised me and were good to me. I was happy."
"Anyhow when I was ........ohh, 'bout fifteen I think. We didn't actually celebrate exact birthdays. Hell," she now chuckled, "once she got mixed up and gave me two birthdays in less than a year. But I'm getting off the point..."
Caroline then took a deep breath and the smile was gone again, "One night there was a right awful fight which broke out at one of the tables where men were playin' cards. Knives were out and one fella had sort of club. Well, my ...you know ..Pa, moved in ta break it up. He was a big strong man and folks did not wanna fight him. But then this one jasper he pulled a gun and just plain shot him ...twice right in the chest. I was kneeling there crying when he died."
"The bulls...coppers..you know, they came in next day. We told them who done it, it was a local ward politician who was shit at cards and didn't like losin'. Bulls left then. Time passed, no charges, nothin' was ever done. Ma was already in her grave bout a year before this happened. So it was just me then. And they'd left no will, I wasn't even a legal child or so I was told by this one lawyer who also then informed me, someone else had just bought the property, and I was not to stay there no more. I was told not to make a fuss, maybe find a man who'd take good care a me. Yeah, we both know what that meant."
"The next night that ward boss was walking, more like staggering, in this alley, drunk as a lord and all by his self. Well, I had been following him for awhile lookin' fer my chance and damn........this was it. I went right up behind him, pulled my pistol, and shot him right in the back of the head. Then I ran, tossed the gun in the river, and I cleared out of Chicago. Started me a new life. Since all I knew was saloons, I went west to find a decent saloon job."
"Long story short, I ended up here a few years later. But....hon, yer lookin' at a murderer...wait...I think that's murderess?"
She stopped talking then, she'd made her point.
Caroline's story started out pretty tame, but quickly picked up and grabbed Brendan's attention. His brows rose as Caroline recounted her father's murder. He wouldn't have thought such things could happen in a big civilized city like Chicago. But, having never been to Chicago, he didn't know how much of a lawless place it could be.
It was hard to imagine Caroline shooting someone in the back, having premeditated it. She seemed so impulsive, but clearly wasn't so impulsive when it came to those she considered family.
When Caroline came to the end of her tale, Brendan just stared at her for several moments, unsure of how to react. How was a man supposed to react to something like that? Then he said slowly, "Well, murderess or not, you're a good friend." His brow furrowed momentarily, and he sat up a little. "But that man murdered your pa, right? So maybe the murders kind of...wipe each other out. And you were gettin' justice for your pa. So that has to count for somethin'."
When Caroline came to the end of her tale, Brendan just stared at her for several moments.
Caroline got it, it was certainly a lot to take in it. She figured he had always placed her on a pedestal and she was far from perfection. Best he should know, know all of it. Sure it was a bit of a risk, but it was a long time ago when that happened and there was no way Brendan would somehow decide to contact any authorities. Unless she read the man really wrong.
Then he said slowly, "Well, murderess or not, you're a good friend." His brow furrowed momentarily, and he sat up a little. "But that man murdered your pa, right? So maybe the murders kind of...wipe each other out. And you were gettin' justice for your pa. So that has to count for somethin'."
"Chicago probably wouldn't see it that way but fuck 'em. And you know what? I'd do it all over again, in a heartbeat if I hadda. My father never got any justice," she declared emphatically.
"You know I killed somebody else too. Me n' Addy when we was grabbed by Indians when they attacked the stagecoach. But not like that was anything the law would come after us for. We did it to escape, we killed the guard. Then we ran for it. Him or us, right?"
Brendan had never really talked to Caroline about the time she and Addy had been captured by Indians -- who would want to talk about that? But again, Caroline volunteered information about her second murder -- if it could be called a murder -- finishing with "Him or us, right?"
"Damn right," he said emphatically. Chicago, justice, and vengeance was one thing, but survival was another. Why, he'd have been disappointed if she hadn't tried to escape. It would be so un-Caroline-like.
He leaned back against the pillow. "So," he said comfortably, "you're a murderess and I'm a reprobate." He was proud of having pulled that word from his brain after having it directed at him by a woman on the street in the days following Crabbe's death. "What a pair we are."
Caroline suddenly felt better for having unburdened herself with those revelations, well mostly the first Chicago one. Brendan took it seriously but remained unphased when it came to their friendship. So she had read him right. Most folk she would have never brought it up at all. But she had honestly felt she needed to make a point and now she had.
He leaned back against the pillow. "So," he said comfortably, "you're a murderess and I'm a reprobate."
Caroline chuckled, "A reprobate huh? Well, if you say so who am I to argue."
He declared, "What a pair we are."
"Ain't we though," she nodded and shimmied closer to him til they were right against each others' space.
"I like 'us' though, don't ya think? We make a good pair when we put our minds to it," she then boldly kissed him full on the lips.
Brendan was glad that Caroline had decided to share a few more bits of her past with him. It was probably good for her, and it had been good for him to think about someone else beside himself. And now they could bond over having killed people, as strange of a thing as that was to bond over.
It was true, he and Caroline did make a good pair. Maybe in another life, things could have worked out between them, but Caroline wasn't one to settle down, and he wasn't -- Huh?
It only took Brendan a split second to recover from his surprise. He pulled Caroline's face closer and returned her kiss deeply. Locking eyes with her, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her on top of him, resting one hand at the small of her back and the other in her hair. After a long, drawn-out kiss, he pulled away just enough to say "You wanna put our minds to it right now?" with a grin.