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.
Well, if nothing else Bridget will at least be well fed before this was all over. Just then Arabella was back only she was half pulling a very nervous looking Brendan with her.
"Pardon my intrusion Marshall!” she blurted out “But Mr. Connelly here’s got somethin’ to say to Clara here, and if he don’t bust it out now he never will!”
Now what? Hadn't she made herself quite clear about how she felt about that Evergreen cowpoke. Pronto amiably backed off to allow him room and Emeline answered, "Of course, Arabella, Brendan can have his say."
Emeline also proved very aware that this little conversation between Brendan and her might be more comfortable without everyone standing there gawking and listening. The kindly woman now did her best to deflect Arabella, the deputy, and Bridget away from the farm girl and cowboy.
"Well, what do you have to say that is so important?" Clara stood there and was prepared to hear him out.
The young man cleared his throat, "Miss Redmond...I uh...I wanna apologize for the way things started between us. It...wern't my fault, but I wouldn't've wanted it to start that way. I didn't know we was on your pa's property, and if I had known, I wouldn't've ridden over."
Clara was so tempted to correct him more than once on his mangling of the grammar but kept her self control. Alright so he might even be telling the truth about how little he had known about the situation.
She would give him the benefit of the doubt there.
He continued, "And I didn't mean for any of the rest of the stuff to happen. You know, the...the shootin'. That wasn't my fault, either. Like I done told you before, I was set up. It was near my first day on the job and I didn't know better."
Clara took a breath then replied, "Very well, but say I do accept all you say is true right now. The fact remains someone took a rifle shot at me and I believe it was meant to kill me. I believe that to be attempted murder. And yet you still work there, side by side with whoever it was who tried to kill me. I am quite confident you did not try to turn the shooter into the lawful authorities because I heard nothing of the sort all winter. So while you may not have planned it or were ignorant of the situation you were ...as you say set up, you obviously still condone it by your actions. Or rather....lack of action."
Then she sighed, "Very well, you apologized even though I did not ask for one. Personally I think actions speak louder than words."
She realized she was speechifying and stopped then, he probably did not even get her point.
"So... is that it? Is that all you wanted to say to me?" Clara asked in a measured tone of voice.
"So you liked that pie then?" Clara noted without breaking into a smile even though Bridget was quite a funny sight downing it like that.
Bridget then revealed what she had whispered to Pronto. Clara slowly nodded, "Oh that's good."
Emeline now reported the man spent hours polishing it. Of course Clara knew that to be just a joke but wondered if Bridget might take it seriously. Emeline kindly dabbed the young lady's chin while complimenting the crusts Clara did.
"We worked together as a team on that. I got my love of baking from my mother when I got to help her bake things as a child," Clara quickly explained.
Clara nodded as Pronto answered that he had no plans to give up the deputy job, "Oh, well I suppose as long as you handle both a town job and a ranch job at the same time."
Just then Bridget leaned in to whisper to the man, he seemed a bit disturbed...no, more puzzled by her. No doubt he had not run into her in town before. Clara couldn't hear what Bridget said but did get the man's answer.
“Yes ‘um she is that.”
Clara was quick to Bridget's defense, the poor thing was not quite normal and may well have been born that way. Most people seemed to notice but just in case...
"Bridget is a very unique special lady, Mr. Pike, you know," she declared then tried thru the look in her eyes and body language to get across the woman was not quite all there in the usual sense. Hopefully the man would catch on then.
"This is Miss Clara." She laughed, adding, "I wasn't sure you would recognize her in her pretty dress. And this is Bridget."
“Miss Clara, a pleasure.” He said with a slight bow. “Fact is, I might not’ve had you not introduced us. That’d be a change from what I’ve seen of you before. A right pleasant change I might add.”
"Nice to meet you, sir. Emeline always talks about you and it is always complimentary," Clara replied, "Thank you, well she provided the dress and bustle. Helped me fix up my hair so the compliments should go to her mostly."
"I hear you are going to be a rancher? Going to give up the deputy job then?" Clara inquired, just to be conversational as much as anything.
Emeline chatted with Bridget then, assuring her that she (Clara) was definitely not a bad person. It was a bit strange as she had been so very kind to Bridget ever since their first meeting but then she did not wish to badger the young lady for an explanation. Besides Bridget was a bit .... slow on the uptake.
Just then Emeline's fiance showed up, he looked more dressed up than she was used to seeing him. Ah, and he had his deputy sheriff's badge on for all to see. Hopefully there would be no need for lawmen at this dance unlike the previous one.
"All's quiet out there amonst 'em. So, care to dance?" Pronto extended his hand, " course we can wait on a waltz if you'd prefer."
They would have to wait a bit, the musicians were not quite ready to start playing yet, there had been no music so far other than earlier Arabella had played the piano. Clara was standing right there next to Emeline so she faced the man.
"Good evening, Mr. Pike, we got wonderful weather for this dance did we not?" she addressed the man.
Brendan shifted his weight under Clara's scathing stare. He stuck his thumbs in his suspenders and met Clara's eyes, setting his mouth stubbornly. "Brendan Connolly. And I didn't set you up. The hands set me up."
"So you say," Clara huffed, "And then what did you about it?"
She would have not tolerated being roped into such a vicious act, most folk would call it for what it was 'attempted murder'.
Arabella then went and took the cowpoke's side on it, so much for friendship and loyalty. But it seemed she was more interested in getting to dance with the infuriating young man. Whatever! As the pair shyed away for a conversation, Bridget remained.
“Is that man bad?” she asked in a whisper.
"I do not know for certain, he probably is though. He works for a very bad man," Clara answered then glanced at Bridget and decided the poor thing needn't get involved all this drama, probably well beyond her comprehension anyhow.
"Say, I like your outfit. You look very nice," even as she complimented the other young woman, her mind was made up - regardless of how much effort it took she was going to see at least one man, or more, would dance with Bridget this night. Well, just slow dances.
Clara had barely gotten a word in and poor Emeline was left in the dust, a normal enough occurance when Arabella was involved. Just then look who came waltzing up like he owned the place. That - admittedly good looking - but very annoying Evergreen cowpoke. She didn't forget a face like his. Name not so much....
"Evenin', Miss Redmond," the man said, tilting his head to the side a bit. "Are you gonna introduce me to these other ladies? One of 'em has quite the pair of lungs, and I don't think it's you."
"Well I ..." and that was all Clara got out.
“Howdy cowboy, I’m Arabella: and that was my lungs you was just admirin’.” She flirted as best she could, glancing down at her admittedly rather flat chest. “This here’s my pal Bridget, and it sounds like you already know Clara.”
"Oh we have met alright," Clara's eyes burned into him.
“What’s your name, son? And how d’you fancy kickin’ up your heels with me a little bit later on?” the obnoxious Arabella asked, tapping her chest with her thumb, who wasn't done yet (naturally).
“She says she’ll dance with you, too, but no polkas – she ain’t rightly constructed fer that sort o’ caper.”
Clara felt badly for poor Bridget but decided she had better quickly take the chance to finally do the introductions the cowpoke wanted.
"His name is Brendan. I honestly cannot remember his last name if he even gave it to me. And I should warn you, Arabella, that if you do dance with him to be careful. He might be setting you for one of his fellow Evergreen hands to shoot you. Like he tried with me."
"And ladies, Brendan here works for the Steelgraves who are trying to steal my father's farm by any means possible."
Clara never took her eyes from Brendan as she stated all this.
Clara had just turned around when an unearthly yet strangely familiar screech of unimaginable proportions rent the barn. She could not help but both be startled and give a pained wince. Then she saw the origin of the scream, of course it was.
"Arabella!" she frowned.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You look SO beautiful!!! Where did you get that dress?! Turn around, is that a bustle?! Oh Golly Bridget, she got a bustle!!!”
"Yes, Emeline thought it a capital idea so I agreed, she is a very intelligent woman," by now Clara had taken to calling her employer simply by her Christian name they got along so well.
Arabella turned to Ms Emeline, her eyes almost shining with tears.
“Oh Miss Em, don’t she just look like a dream? She makes the rest of us gals all look like Annie off the Pickle Boat!”
"Nonsense, it is just a dress," Clara waved off this sudden flood of praise. However, she honestly would not mind if any boys reacted even half as positively as Arabella.
"Hardly the best reason for conversion but I suppose it is the end result that counts," Clara listened to the chinaman's tale of conversion. She had her doubts about how heartfelt such a thing was but could hardly blame the man.
"I think that fellow needed a few history lessons. It was quite impossible to be the brother of Jesus," she couldn't help but add.
Still, she was getting sidetracked, she had come here with Bridget to help her not chat with this chinaman.
And sure enough the look on Bridget's face said she was having trouble removing the dirty dress.
"Oh let me do that for you. It is always easier with an extra pair of hands," Clara deftly undid the hook then assisted her out of the garment, making certain the woman did not fall down.
“Miss Bridget. You take leg off, too, give stump rest!” shouted the chinaman.
"You need to rest your stump?" That sounded odd but what did she know about it?
"Can I help with that, be happy to," Clara hovered over Bridget to be of further assistance.
Clara and Emeline arrived together each of them carrying folded up tablecloths and baskets of baked treats, cookies of all sorts and some fruit pies too which they had baked the evening before and now walked on over to the barn. They got there almost a full hour before the dance was supposed to start which gave them plenty of time to set up their goodies on the tables against one of the walls. For awhile as they placed the cookies on plates they could hear the piano playing. Clara had glanced right off to see who it was, Arabella! She was actually pretty good at it too. Interesting.
Even as she worked with Emeline, a part of her felt very self conscious, something that almost never happened with her. But today she was all dressed up in a fine though rather low cut dress (at least for her) complete with a modest bustle underneath. That wasn't all. Emeline had done her hair also, the brunette pigtails now loosened and hanging down to her shoulders. And the final touch, Emeline even shared with the girl some of her seldom used perfume. Clara had never worn such but certainly liked the fragrance it gave off. Many townsfolk would probably need to take a second look to recognize this rather elegant looking young lady was normally the solemn soberly dressed girl in long pigtails. It was kind of exciting but also made her a bit ....well....nervous.
All this makeover had been done at Emeline's upstairs apartment over the diner so even her father or brother had seen her yet. Now Aurelian wasn't much for dances but promised he would attend for a short while just to say hello to folks and be sociable. But he didn't want to leave the farm and it's animals unattended for too long. Wyatt would come with him too and no doubt leave at the same time too. Wyatt hated dancing because that involved doing it with....shudder.... girls. But there was going to be free food and punch plus his school friends would be there too. Clara half imagined Wyatt would end up laughing at the look of his older sister. No matter, what did he know about such things!
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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