Clara showed her smarts at an early age, she was reading already at five, everything scholastic comes easy to her. Her father depends on her for so much around the farm, she has had to grow up quickly. Her work ethic is amazing and be it cooking or laundry or watching over her kid brother, she is diligent and competent about it.
She has her weak points, like any other person. Her tongue is sharp and she is way too eager to give anyone and everyone her opinion on things and people. She doesn’t seem to like a whole lot of people. She is still scarred both emotionally and physically by the Indian attack which wounded her and killed her mother. She could certainly use a sense of humor.
Lost Lake Ranch (August 1875 - September 1875)
Clara recently accepted the position of part-time nanny to Cody and Nettie Thornton at Lost Lake Ranch. She only works two or three days per week.
After resigning from that position Clara found new employment working at the Lickskillet, a local cafe in Kalispell. She helps with the cooking and baking plus can also wait on tables if necessary.
She handles her share of the chores and work involved in keeping the family's homestead running.
Reads and writes, excellent with arithmetic. Good with chores,
Cooking, laundry, and farm animals. Can ride a horse.
Her father has taught her to load and fire both pistol and rifle.
Hobbies & Interests
Voracious reader when she can get her hands on books and has the time given all the work she does at home.
Swimming when time and weather permits.
Aliases / Nicknames
Kalispell, Montana Territory
Place of Birth
Kith & Kin
| FAMILY |
Father: Aurelian Redmond (see Timeline for details)
Mother: Kathleen Redmond (deceased)
Brother(s): Wyatt Redmond (a. 12)
Sister(s): Catherine Redmond (deceased, a. 3 months)
| ADVERSARIES & ALLIES |
To be determined in game play.
Indians, any Indians, she hates Indians with a fury.
| 1860 |
Born to Kathleen and Aurelian Redmond in Scranton, Pennsylvania.
| 1861-1865 |
Basically brought up by her mother as her father was off in service during the war. A precocious child, fast learner, with seemingly endless curiosity. In late 1863 she got herself a little baby brother, Wyatt.
| 1867-1872 |
Her family lived on a farm where she had a happy enough childhood all the while learning about all that entailed being a woman on a farm. She was a big help to her mother. Kathleen used to remark Clara was a better cook than she was.
Sadly there was another baby, Catherine, which was born in poor health and passed a few months later. They had to move also and their situation became increasingly harder. Finally her father decided they would move out west. Clara was excited, it sounded like a grand adventure.
| 1873 |
The train ride from the east out to Chicago was amazing to the girl, she usually kept her face at the window watching all the sights they went passed. For a time they stopped in Minnesota but her father said more and better land could be found further west.
| 1874 |
Finally her father pulled the trigger, as it were, taking up a homestead property for a very low price in Montana. This was to be their home from here on in. Work commenced on a cabin but they hadn’t been there long when Indians attacked them without warning. Clara was with her mother helping her wash laundry at the creek. It all happened so fast. The two ran for it at first sight of a grim looking warrior. Clara didn’t get far before she screamed in pain as an arrow sunk into her torso. Down she went. Her mother could have kept going but that was not going to happen. Kathleen saw the Indian raising his bow for another shot and the mother threw herself over the girl to shield her, taking the shaft right in her back.
By the time Clara recovered consciousness, she was in the nearest town in a doctors office, her father and brother at her side. Aurelian had to tell her that her mother was gone. That probably hurt more than the wound, which was misery enough. For awhile it was touch and go when she developed infection but stubborn as always, Clara pulled thru.
Their homestead had been burnt to the ground, everything left behind destroyed or stolen. Aurelian moved on as soon as Clara was cleared to travel. Finally he had a bit of good fortune. He met another homesteader who was leaving for the east as his wife didn’t like it out west. This man already had a property just outside the small town of Kalispell and there was also a cabin up too. Aurelian bought it and was determined to try again to make a home, a permanent home. Clara, who worshipped her father, was ready too. This time they would succeed if she had say so about it.
Arabella nodded and got the eggs into the fry pan. "Oh dash!" she exclaimed "I done broke one o' the yolks! Oh well, guess she ain't gonna notice!"
"It is fine, just cook them properly. Less chatter, more concentration on what you are doing please," Clara replied as she did her part in the breakfast prep.
"Hey, Clara" she shouted over, cooking eggs was starting to bore her, "Let's both close our eyes and see if we can cook breakfast without bein' able to see, like a blind people!"
"First off, proper grammar, it is 'like a blind person' not people," Clara pointed out , "And secondly we are here in this kitchen to cook proper meals for paying customers. That is a responsibility I take most seriously. Kindly be more....adult."
Just this short time Ara had been in the diner now had definitely convinced Clara she would never hire the girl to be a regular employee.
As soon as Clara entered the kitchen, Arabella was on her like a burr stuck to clothing.
"What did she do? What did she say? Why's she talkin' to Mr Simons? What did Lorenz, er, Mr Crabbe say to her?!!" then she gasped out loud with the remembrance of something "Oh! And I saw when she held your hand! Did it feel funny?!!"
"Never mind all that, we have another breakfast order, you do the eggs, I will do the bacon," Clara got to work.
"And for your information, her hand felt perfectly normal," the no nonsense young Mrs. Lutz pointed out what should be the obvious.
"She's sorta pretty, wonder what she looks like under that eye bandage thingamajig?" Arabella wondered out loud. "Say, when you go back out there, see if'n you can peep over the top of it and see what's underneath."
"I most certainly will not, that would be extremely rude," scoffed Clara, "Get going on those eggs, you were the one who volunteered to help."
"Please take my hand, I can't see yours." Frances said, holding out hers straight in front of her.
"I can guide you to a table if you wish? My name is Clara," the young woman stuck out her hand and grasped the blind girl's.
"Thank you, Clara. My name's Frances, Frances Grimes, I was hoping..." her stick whacked Crabbe on the ankle bone and the man let out an inadvertent "Ow!!"
"Oh careful dear, you struck a customer," Clara pointed out without a hint of anger.
Turned out this Miss Grimes knew Mr. Crabbe, small world. Clara just remained standing there then as the blind girl conversed with the man. Crabbe didn't take the whack personal and in fact kindly offered to pay for a breakfast for the young miss.
The girl forgot all about her then, enchanted by Mr. Simons being described as a theatre manager? There was no theatre in Kalispell, Clara silently noted. Fortunately Crabbe rescued her from standing there by adding the young lady would take the same breakfast that she had earlier served the two men.
"Very well," Clara turned and left them to their talk of the theatre (?) then headed back into the kitchen.
Clare felt compelled to point out the Weavers were still upset. They were not only regular customers but regular church goers and might make trouble for Arabella with the congregation and minister/priest. Ara was non-plussed though.
"Oh that! Oh they're just Philistines, them Weavers, and should be slewed with a jawbone of a ass. Ol' Shakespeare was always using cuss words, don't stop it bein' high toned stuff."
"Goodness sakes, Ara, are you advocating killing them? Do not be silly," Clara frowned, leave it to the girl to be overdramatic.
"Oh well, I don't wanna lose you customers, I'll go and say sorry before they leave!" she offered and flew out of the door to the front of the diner before Clara could stop her. The Weavers had already departed though. But Ara was back fast enough, scuttling back into the kitchen again and literally sheltered herself behind Clara, peeping back around her into the seated area.
"Now what?" Clara sighed, if it wasn't one thing with the girl it was another.
"Oh Lawd she comin' Clara! It's that blind girl, I'm scared of her! I'm scared she'll see me! I... I..." Arabella struggled to put the source of her angst into words "I don't know what to say to her!"
Arabella Mudd - speechless? That would be the day!
"Blind girl?" Clara frowned, "We do not have blind girls in Kalispell, least that I know?"
"You'd better go out and see to her - I'll hide out o' sight in here and do the dishes!" she decided, pouncing on the pile of dirty dishes that she was about to wash up anyway, and looking around nervously, like the sightless young woman might glide into the kitchen at any second and put her on the spot.
The bell tinkled and a young woman wearing a bandage around her eyes and using a stick to feel her way walked quite confidently into the place.
Clara reached for a towel to wipe her hands then tossed it onto the table, "I will handle this then. Just keep working, Ara."
Stepping into the dining room once more Clara spotted what was obviously the blind girl alright although wearing a blindfold instead of dark glasses. Well, it wasn't like Clara had any experience with blind people anyhow. But she was certainly not terrified of one, instead more sympathetic. Poor thing.
"Good day, miss and welcome to the Lick Skittle Diner. Are you here for something to eat, drink, or both?" she started as she got closer.
"I can guide you to a table if you wish? My name is Clara."
Both men were content with their coffees black and Mr. Simons was even kind enough to throw her a compliment, those were the kind of customers she loved.
"Why thank you, sir. I will check back later to see if you two want anything else," Clara nodded then went to check on the Weavers who were about finished. They were still a bit peeved about the 'loud and lewd saloon trash' who had disturbed their breakfast.
"Now that is being rather harsh, the girl is an orphan who almost died in Whitefish. Not all of us have had proper upbringings and it is doubtful she gets it over at the saloon," Clara sprang to Ara's defense.
"I consider her a friend of mine though I fully admit I can do nothing to control her ......outlandish at times behavior."
The Weavers frowned and shrugged but did not continue that train of thought, merely said they were done and Clara could take their plates.
"Oh I can do that later if you two wish to pay then head out?" Clara responded.
A few minutes later Clara was back in the gallery with both hands full of dishes, marching them up to Arabella.
"Honestly, Arabella, you really need to be more circumspect with your pronouncements...and actions. The Weavers were affronted," she sighed.
ooc: I was planning on it this past weekend, but was too busy.
Clara got mostly what she figured she would by the mere mention of Ara's friend's name - well the wrong name but that had been deliberate. Ara became every animated and enthusiastic (even for Ara!) as she gushed about the other girl. Goodness sakes, Dollypops though? What an awful nickname. But on the other hand, she was glad for Ara that she had found such a grand friend.
It ended though with a bit too much information, Clara looked puzzled at the other girl, "I have no idea what that means and I am quite uncertain I wish it to be explained to me either. Besides, I need to serve our customers."
A mere couple of minutes later, Clara carried out then set two heaping plates in front of Mr. Simon and Mr. Crabbe,"There you go, gentlemen. Salt and pepper is on the table. Would either of you like any cream or sugar or both for your coffees?"
Arabella got to it as requested allowing Clara to begin on the toast.
"Say, how's Jacob liking his job with the telegraph company?" she asked chattily "Jemima says that Hector says that their Pa says that he's the best express delivery rider they ever had! 'Don't know the meanin' of danger!' he said, 'get's through hell or high water' he said 'be it Indians or outlaws, he can dodge or fight his way out o'...' Say, you all right Clara Anne? You lookin' a little squirrel there. Mornin' sickness I suppose?" she asked, for to her eye Clara looked a little pale.
None of that was what Clara wanted to hear, it already was a bone of contention between her and her beloved husband, she made no bones about her not being happy with him putting himself at risk like that. Yes, it was needed money but if Jacob went and died on them, where would Clara and the babe be in the future then?
"I do not have morning sickness I will have you know," it was a white lie but it was always wise to admit as little as possible to Arabella lest the whole town know about it.
"Oh and for your edification, I have absolutely zero interest in what Hector says about any topic. Kindly change the subject," Clara asserted.
"How is your new friend, ummm, Miranda?" Clara fully knew it was Miriam but she figured that would get Arabella going as she would be eager to correct her.
"Well, you don't do it all on your own every day" Ara retorted.
"I never claimed I did, Emeline and I worked as partners," Clara pointed out as she flipped the bacon slices onto their other sides.
"Please, Ara, do not make my job any more stressful, " was her plea.
"Oh Clara Anne Lutz, I know you think I'm just a noodle-headed idjit, and (sigh) you're probably right: but even Mammy Cookie thinks I'm useful in the kitchen, she tells me what to do and I do it and, guess what? I do it all right. So when you're good and ready you just bark out some orders to me and I'll obey like a good little kitchen maid," Ara claimed with a huge dose of seeming sincerity. Of course that did not mean she would follow thru, that was the issue.
Clara gave in, against her better judgement, she could use the help.
"Very well, I need some eggs then, the basket is over there......crack'em open in that frying pan ...the one to the right and fry them up. If the customer makes no special request we always simply prepare them sunny side up. Use four eggs since I have two people wanting some," she directed in a calm clear tone of voice.
At least Arabella stopped.............doing whatever it was she had been doing? Clara was actually uncertain of what that had been and did not wish to ask. Turned out the girl claimed she did have a specific reason for being here at the diner (needless to say it did not involve spending any money of course).
"Oh!" exclaimed Arabella, "Well, see, last night Jemima told me that the lady who Mrs Pike hired to help you out might not be well enough to come in..." she looked around then cupped her hands to say in a whisper so loud it could have been heard for blocks around "WOMEN'S TROUBLES!" she then continued in her normal voice "... and she said if'n she didn't turn up, I should come in and see if you need help. She'd ha' come herself, but she needs to clean Mr. Falmer Browne's gutters out."
Gracious! She often had to wonder if Arabella did this sort of thing on purpose?
"Shhh! Unfit topic for a public eatery," Clara frowned.
"Also Emeline did not inform me of any woman coming here to help me out. I believe you or your source of information are incorrect. I will be fine," Clara remarked.
Then Arabella proceeded to reveal some grand secret Mr. Simons had apparently divulged to her (what on earth was he thinking???) Needless to say he was not pleased. So the man was going be investing in what sounded like a theatre, like one of those east coast ones? And auditions too? Clara frankly did not care, she had never been to a theatre in her life and she had lived just fine without it, thank you.
She then turned to go back in the kitchen when once more the front door opened and there was another customer. Goodness, the morning had the look of it being a busy one. Hard on her but good for the profits.
"I'd better go turn that bacon over!" Arabella yelped as she started to dart into the back kitchen, pulling her bonnet off and disentangling herself from her shawl.
Clara looked wide eyed, the kitchen was a sacred place to her and Emeline, people did not simply waltz in there!
"No! Arabella, I will do it! That bacon is not burning, I just put it into the pan a minute ago. You are not to mess around in there!"
Before she could charge into the kitchen to make sure her decision was enforced, she turned to force a harried smile at the latest customer.
"Good day, sir! Have a seat. Ham and eggs coming up. And coffee too."
With that seen to, Clara rushed off to the kitchen like it was a race, which in a way it was.
Her quick action didn't give the other girl time enough to do much of anything, Ara had the spatula in hand to turn the bacon slices but Clara moved right up to her and literally took the utensil out of her hand with one quick and firm swoop.
"Ara! One never does anything in another's kitchen without explicit verbal permission from the cook. I will handle this. This is my job, what I do every day," she lectured even as she began flipping over the sizzling pork slices of goodness.
"Please, Ara, do not make my job any more stressful, " she pleaded.
Clara had her work cut out for her, the Weavers breakfasts needed to be done and then of course Mr. Simons which put her in the kitchen so she could not wait on any other newly arriving customers. Turned out that, so far at least, it was only Arabella Mudd and she wasn't there as a paying customer. Mixed blessing really.
Just as Clara was bringing on out the two plates for the Weavers she could hear Ara's easily recognizable voice, was she doing Shakespeare? There she was standing in the middle of the diner floor and just then ....
"Cease this filthy display, child!" cried Mr Weaver, standing.
Oh this was not good. The Weavers were steady customers and Emeline would not be pleased to find out she had lost them as regulars. What had happened?
"Ara, what on earth are you doing anyhow?" she frowned at her admittedly weird friend, if it wasn't one thing with Arabella, it was another.
But she also wanted to interrupt whatever this budding disaster was all about by appealing to the Weavers' stomaches.
"I am sorry, Mr. Weaver. But please, sit down again, I have your breakfasts nice and warm," she marched up to their table and set the plates down in front of the two, "Enjoy."
Then she turned to Arabella, "Are you here to order something, dear? If not kindly do not disturb the customers. Speaking of which, Mr. Simon, I have your breakfast started and hopefully I can bring it out real soon."
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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