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By Jemima Wigfall · Posted
"Well, the main hole anyway, the roof is still............well, thanks to you we did what we could, thank you again," Clara nodded as they studied their handiwork from the ground. Jemima nodded and gave a sniff of agreement. It was a serviceable repair as long as they didn't have any kind of a storm over the next few days and nights. "We shall not live here long and then we will be living above the diner," Clara looked forward to that very much, talk about a short trip to work. The husky young woman turned her eyes to Clara. She had a question about that, but she would ask later. There was something more pressing she needed to ask. "Ned'll be here soon. He was going to take those squirts home while I stayed the night. I know you... well, I know you didn't like the idea, but seein' as Arabella promised Jacob that I would I thought I'd... well, I thought I'd offer again. It's no trouble to me, sorta holiday in a way, and two girls can look after themselves better than one. Well, there it is." "Very well, since you put it that way. But I absolutely forbid you to do any more work around here for me. I am just fine. Oh and while I did not say so before I am armed too. Father's Dragoon Colt and, trust me, I do know how to use it," Clara gave in. "Good." Jemima rewarded Clara with one of her rare tight little smiles. Altogether, they were a pretty dour pair: this was not going to be a night of hilarity by any stretch of the imagination. In stark contrast, Arabella and Miriam came back from the creek full of the joys of spring, laughing and giggling as they stumbled over the rough ground and nearly spilling the crockery. Before old Ned could whisk them away back to Kalispell, Arabella expressed great delight that Clara had relented in letting Jemima stay. "Oh, Clara Anne, I'm just so relieved! I couldn't 'a looked Jacob in the eye if anything had happened to you after I promised him that 'Mima would stay over!" she gushed, throwing her arms awkwardly around Clara while trying not to squash her tummy as they got ready to leave. Next to that pair, Jemima was giving Miriam a curt business-like nod "See you Wednesday." she said flatly, that was the next time both of them were working together at the same time at Pettigrews. And then... the flood of goodwill and friendship that the circumspect Wigfall daughter had been holding back like a dam until she was sure that she liked Miriam. It poured forth like a deluge. Sniff. "I'll show you how to work the Willcox & Gibbs." Yes!!! The new fangled Willcox & Gibbs treadle operated sewing machine! The Holy Grail of modern, high quality, industrial level sewing technology! @Wayfarer -
By Arabella Mudd · Posted
"Flambard and Flambard, Bespoke Gentleman's Outfitters, Saville Row, London." she read slowly, before glancing up at him with an excited grin on her face. "Say, you ain't really this here 'Springfield Jack' feller are you, what goes round aductin' women off of rooftops?" “Definitely not.” James said quietly but firmly, the tiny smile that had begun in response to her humming faded as he thought about the life he’d left behind. “I… My clothing did come from London, but I’m just a…. Simple man. No kidnapping of fair maidens for me.” He managed a slight smile, clearly trying to but her at ease. Arabella looked at James long and hard. "You might not be Springfield Jack, and you might not kidnap fair maidens fer pastime, James Vaughn, but somehow I don't reckon you're no simple man!" she said shrewdly. "Now come and sit down will ya, yer in my light!" “Your virtue is safe with me, I assure you Miss Arabella.” James said with as much dignity as a man without any pants on could muster. In his case it wasn’t really that much. Her giggling comment about chinks in his armor had his face falling. “Another?” He choked out in dismay, looking down at himself trying to see what she was referring to this time. The girl just shook her head, smiling and humming to herself, and got to work. It really was fine stitching on his duds: she figured that old Flambard and Flambard surely knew their stuff, and she tried her level best to match their workmanship with her mending. Her humming turned into singing. 🎵London Bridge is falling down Falling down, falling down London Bridge is falling down My fair lady...🎵 She was just about to suggest that she and James sing a 'round' with her, he starting the tune halfway through, when there was a sudden and hasty knock on the room door only to be followed by it being opened without waiting on an answer and in stepped a blonde young woman, likely in her early twenties if James was a good guesser. The woman was wrapped in a bathrobe and barefoot. It also would be a pretty safe guess that she had no other clothes on beneath that robe! "Hey hon, I............" she stopped mid-sentence upon sight of this man standing next to Arabella without a pair of trousers on. "Howdy, Cara'!" trilled Arabella happily, without daring to take her eyes off her sewing. "Oh shit! Ummm, I didn't know you had company, kiddo," Caroline gave Arabella a look like 'what the devil?' and then switched to glaring at the man. "That's all right." she kept her eyes down on the seam. No matter how careful she was, her stitching was wonky compared to Messers Flambard and Flambard, but when the trousers were turned right way round again, the mending should still be pretty invisible. "Jim, this is Miss Caroline Mundee, the Chicago Nightingale. Cara', this is Mister James Vaughn, the Terror of Old London, but he prefers Jim." she announced, pulling her needle clear and snapping the thread with her teeth to tie off the ends. Looking up, Caroline still looked a little astounded. "Oh" Arabella explained "I tried to kill myself and Jim split his pants savin' my life!" @Nova @Wayfarer -
By Henry S. Guyer II · Posted
Speed looked up as Ada Fetterman gave the young man her usual skeptical look, yet there was interest in this one. He did not have the look of prospector, nor surveyor. The credentials he presented were not unknown to her, she herself had attended Princeton, but that had almost been for naught. Speed stood up from the papers he and Ada had been going over. He to was impressed by his credentials, though they really would be of little use in Kalispell. And, another Englishman, it seemed as though the town was drawing a goodly number of them. "So, you have a name Or, do you want us to call you Eaton? I am familiar with those institutions. Now, about a job. Ada here runs the office, and you will be working with her to a great extent. And of course myself when I'm in the office. I'm also Town Marshal, so I'm in and out. Your experience studying the law, well, that could be very useful." "I need someone that can deal with registering claims, dealing with the legalities of buying and selling of properties across the state. And, if by chance you have a name, I believe Mister Guyer and I could use you." Ada added. She seldom called him Marshal. @Nova -
By Caroline Mundee · Posted
There was a sudden and hasty knock on the room door only to be followed by it being opened without waiting on an answer and in stepped a blonde young woman, likely in her early twenties if James was a good guesser. The woman was wrapped in a bathrobe and barefoot. It also would be a pretty safe guess that she had no other clothes on beneath that robe! "Hey hon, I............" she stopped mid-sentence upon sight of this man standing next to Arabella without a pair of trousers on. "Oh shit! Ummm, I didn't know you had company, kiddo," Caroline gave Arabella a look like 'what the devil?' and then switched to glaring at the man. -
By James Vaughn · Posted
James let out a nervous chuckle, “I didn’t think you did.” he hastened to assure her, since he truly didn’t believe that she would bite him. Nor was he exactly comfortable with sitting down beside her on her bed. More for propriety’s sake than because he was afraid of her or anything like that. “I’m fine standing.” he murmured, rubbing his hand over his chin, his eyes not quite meeting hers when he passed over his ripped pants. James tugged at the hem of his shirt, caught himself and forced his arms back down to his sides. His lips curved when she started humming before reading off the name of the store where his pants had come from. “Definitely not.” James said quietly but firmly, the tiny smile that had begun in response to her humming faded as he thought about the life he’d left behind. “I… My clothing did come from London, but I’m just a…. Simple man. No kidnapping of fair maidens for me.” He managed a slight smile, clearly trying to but her at ease. “Your virtue is safe with me, I assure you Miss Arabella.” James said with as much dignity as a man without any pants on could muster. In his case it wasn’t really that much. Her giggling comment about chinks in his armor had his face falling. “Another?” He choked out in dismay, looking down at himself trying to see what she was referring to this time.
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RESIDENTIAL AREAS
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Beyond the bustle of Kalispell's Main Street are the quiet residential streets. Modeled after the rows of brownstones in New York city and San Francisco's townhomes, are rows of houses. Some are upscale, some are modest dwellings. Some of the townhouses have been converted into apartments and most have basement apartments that the owners can rent out. There are streets of small homes that have larger lots with small backyard gardens. Several streets away are the homes of Kalispell's wealthier citizens.
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