Bridget

*I've wanted to do a sequel to "End of the Rainbow" for a long time, but nothing would ever come that felt right. So, I put the idea on the back burner and did other projects. Guess it got tired of the back burner. For those of you who have not read End of the Rainbow, it's a story where Nick winds up with amnesia and married to a woman by the name of "Cat", who is dying. Contacted by one of her friends, the Barkleys agree to take Cat's horses. The Barkleys get the shock of their lives when they realize the man who has married Cat, and is delivering the horses, is Nick…who is going by the name of Patrick Barnes. By the end of the story, "Cat" has passed away and Nick has just enough of his memories back to know that the Barkleys are his family. If you look for it, it is on this site. Also, I deleted a story that was supposed to follow it because it never did feel right.

2. Many towns have come and gone throughout history. That being case, the dying town in this story is made up. If it really existed, or one with its name exists today, I don't know it.

Chapter one

It was dark before Nick, who had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the line, rode into what looked to be a town practically deserted. He hoped there'd be a place to bed down for the night and a place to eat. He was expected back at the ranch by the end of the week and he had no clue to exactly how long he'd been delayed due to getting lost. He rode down the street, past buildings that looked as if they had seen better days and towards the one building that had light glowing from its window.

Once he was in front of the building he dismounted, tied Coco to the hitching rail that sat off to his left, and then climbed the stairs. He stopped to read the words that had been painted on the window, Golden Ray Café. As he opened the door, Nick hoped the food would be good and that the owners would know of a room he could use for the night.

Upon entering the café, Nick looked around. The tables were empty and most of the chairs had been picked up, turned upside down and hung on the table. However, there was still one table with its chairs still sitting upright on the floor and a young woman was standing next it. She wore a red shirt and a black skirt that went to her ankles. Her pitch black hair was done up in a bun on the back of her head. One look at the way her eyes stared at nothing in particular and Nick knew the young was blind. "Hello, Miss." Nick took off his hat, smiled and walked towards her. "I was hoping to get a bite to eat and find a place to spend the night."

"We be closed sir, but you sit yourself down. I'll be more than 'appy to get you somethin' to eat. As far as a place to sleep goes, the 'otel be no longer in use. Don't you be worryin' though; I'll ask me mum and da if you can use the room in the back." She nodded towards the table. "You can sit down 'ere. I'll be back in a moment."

It was all Nick could do to remain standing as he heard the Cockney speech come from the young woman's mouth. He hadn't heard that accent since the day Cat passed away, and that had been three years ago. After the initial shock of hearing 'that' accent was past, Nick pulled a chair out and sat down. He found his mind going over the past three years.

Jarrod had finally remarried and just become a father to a set of twins, both boys. He and his wife, Julie Greene Barkley, owned a home in San Francisco and one in Stockton. Audra and Gene had both found spouses and had moved away, Audra to Modesto and Gene to San Jose. Heath was seeing a woman by the name of Christine, but the relationship wasn't a very serious one. He, Nick, had started socializing with women here and there over the past two years. Though, it was difficult. After all, it was kind of hard to get to know someone when they wanted information about his past, and he had so little to give them. He was brought out of his thoughts when the young woman came out carrying a plate of spaghetti and a plate with some garlic bread on it.

"Da and Mum said you could 'ave what was left over from our own supper. You can also use the back room." She put the two plates down on the table.

Nick, who had watched how graciously she had carried the trays while moving from the kitchen to the dining room in spite of being sightless, was amazed. "If I may ask," he said as he picked up his fork, "what's your name, and how long have you been blind? Not that the blindness matters," he added quickly, not wanting to offend the young woman. He needn't have worried.

"My name be Bridget Baker and I be blind me 'ole life. What your name be?" She figured if the man could ask about her, she could do the same. Besides, she'd heard a lot of voices in her life and none of them had sounded as deep and nice as his.

"Nick Barkley. I was goin' home, but I seemed to have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the line." He'd cursed taking the wrong turn, but now, looking at the pretty young woman before him, Nick couldn't help but wonder if it was a good thing or not.

"We'll 'elp you get going in the right direction in the morning, Mr. Barkley." She turned to leave, not wanting to be rude and interfere with the stranger's meal. Nick stopped her.

"You don't have to leave on my account." He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, with its door slightly opened. "If it's okay with you and your folks, I wouldn't mind just talking." He said, finding himself wanting to find out more about her.

Bridget couldn't help but blush. "If it be okay with you, I don't mind at all." Before she could pull out a chair, Nick was on his feet and pulling one away from the table for her.
"Thank you, Mr. Barkley."

"Nick," he said as he sat back down, "the name is simply, Nick." He smiled as the two of them began visiting and exchanging bits and pieces of themselves. That is Bridget willingly told him about herself and her family; he admitted to being attacked almost four years ago and remembering very little. That being the case, he told her what he did know and then told her a little about the family he'd had to get to know all over again.

Mrs. Baker, who had looked out through the space the slightly opened door had, and had been listening to Nick and her daughter talk, turned and walked over to her husband who was cleaning up the counter near the stove. "It looks like our Bridget 'as 'erself an admirer."

Mr. Baker set down his rags, walked to the door and peeked out through the gap. He saw the man called Mr. Barkley smiling at his daughter. He listened to his daughter talking and smiling. Thinking back to just the previous year, before people started moving away in droves, he said, "She 'as 'ad many admirers," he said as he turned away from the door, "but I 'ave yet to see one that makes 'er laugh. This one will go away like all the rest. Don't worry."

Mrs. Baker didn't know about that; still, she didn't argue. No, she simply went to make up the room that Mr. Barkley would need for the night.