Work Text:
The West Virginia’s Living Historical Society, like many things in the underfunded state, wore many hats. They visited schools, hosted lectures, organized Christmas caroling and were available to hire in the unlikely event that one wished an historical interpreter at some event or other. Largely run by volunteers for quite a time, the group was exceedingly proud of having opened its first permanent site wherein they could set up demonstrations for rotating periods and had even hired their first full time employee: One Ophelia Wills, who’d taken a significant pay cut in exchange for free housing on the property for herself and her daughter.
Miss Wills had worked for museums in DC and now organized the group’s events with diligence. She maintained stock of their garb, had spreadsheets of their volunteers including their availability and areas of expertise. Ophelia made sure the site was kept clean and well maintained, took over the booking of events, and planned the logistics of where the Continental Line reenactors should pitch their tents one weekend, keeping in mind that there would be a WWII setup the next. It was complicated but decidedly freeing, after having spent so long trying to balance the hidden agendas of her family, her ex and his family. And, even better, Daisy loved the nonstop events that were happening in ‘their’ front yard. The little girl made it her business to know everybody.
Including Clyde Logan.
Clyde had started volunteering for the group not too long after his jail stint for the ‘vehicular incident’ so he predated the pretty redhead. It had been one of those ‘be a good boy and show the judge you’re taking this seriously’ things but had ended up being an enjoyable pastime. He liked doing brew demos, explaining why sailors used to be paid in rum, how it used to be used as medicine, and no, most historical people weren’t drunk all the time - they had juice, soft drinks and safe water. People have simply always been people and didn’t write about drinking water because it’s boring. Clyde could also rattle off the cultural impact of various cocktails, when they were prominent, and who popularized them.
While he knew of Miss Wills and her daughter, this was their first time actually crossing paths, what with them being new and Clyde not being the most frequent of volunteers. Clyde enjoyed the events but running The Duck Tape paid the bills! Given his own particular knowledge base, Clyde really hadn’t expected the little girl to hang around his demonstration today. Granted, he wasn’t handing out shots or anything but there were sheep and some kids games today. Stuff he’d consider more in line with a kid’s interest. That said, Clyde certainly didn’t mind Daisy playing nearby or asking questions. The kid was cute, smart as a whip and had told more than one adult they were being an idiot. He liked her, despite this being their first time meeting.
That was why he'd been the first to arrive when the little girl cried out in pain. Clyde simply happened to be closest, happened to be paying attention because what sort of self-respecting human doesn’t pay attention to kids nearby? Never mind that he’d vaulted over a low fence, in Edwardian trousers, suspenders and shirt no less, just to get the little girl’s side. Also dressed for the era, Daisy had stumbled while playing hoop-and-stick, chasing after the wooden hoop to keep it rolling until a hidden rock had cut her game short. Now the child was on the ground, clutching her knee, which was bleeding through the little girl’s torn stockings. And the poor girl was crying, fat tears running down her face while she looked around for Mom. When Daisy couldn’t find her, she focused instead on the dark-haired man who’d crouched in front of her and wailed,
“Mama!!!!” Whelp, that was that. Clyde wasn’t Mom but he sure as shoot couldn’t leave a little kid alone. Especially when, as he reached for her, Daisy reached right on back!
“C’on, kiddo, we’ll get you cleaned up,” he spoke quietly as Clyde lifted the little girl into his arms. Others were starting over, mostly the nearby adults who’d been at Clyde’s tasting event - small sips of Edwardian era drinks were what he’d set up for the day. He couldn’t help but hold Daisy a little closer, as though the others might pose some danger to the little girl. Clyde decided to blame the reaction on having seen too many friends and squadmates bleeding and ignored everyone else.
“Where’s Mom?” Daisy whimpered. She couldn’t see her mother and lots of other strangers were getting close. Normally she liked talking to the grown-ups, who usually had funny stories for the little girl, but not right now. Right now, she just clung tighter onto Mr. Logan because he was nice and had slipped her bits of rock candy while he’d been setting up.
“Bet she’s on her way,” Clyde answered truthfully. He hadn’t actually met Miss Wills yet but they’d spoken through email and text. Based on that, and what he’d heard about her from local gossip, she seemed a devoted mother. For now, he set Daisy up on the little stool Clyde had been perching on and reached for a hidden bottle of Everclear he’d been planning to share with a friend at the end of the event. “Gonna sting, be brave for me?”
Daisy nodded solemnly while Clyde dabbed a bit on his handkerchief and began to carefully clean up the little girl’s skinned knees. She flinched a little but didn’t cry out, just watched him carefully nudge bits of dirt and gravel out of her banged up knee. He didn’t act like the other grown-ups, who soothed her non-stop when she was injured, and was super focused on getting her cleaned up like Daisy was very important. She liked that.
“Daisy! Oh, baby, what happened!” Clyde wasn’t the only one who could hop a fence, although it was decidedly more impressive when Ophelia did it. The woman who had to be Daisy’s mother was dressed for the era, including layers of petticoats and a corset, yet still scrambled over any obstacle to her child as though it were nothing.
“I fell!” The little girl sniffled, though it seemed as though it should have been exceedingly obvious. “I think I broke my hoop…”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m just glad you’re all right. I’m sure we can get you another one.” Ophelia let out a sigh of relief once she was able to get her daughter’s face in her hands and press a kiss to Daisy’s forehead. She’d been across the property when Daisy had started crying and Ophelia had taken off like a bat outta hell but it still felt like she’d taken shamefully long to get to her child! “Let’s get you cleaned up, all right?”
“Mr. Logan did it,” and Daisy gestured towards her knees and then the tall man who was shifting somewhat awkwardly. Probably to her shame, this was the first moment that Ophelia noticed him, so focused had she been on getting to Daisy.
“Clyde Logan, ma’am. Had a bottle of somethin’ strong for later, just got her cleaned up for now till we can get a first aid kit.” It had seemed like a very good idea at the time but now Clyde was trying not to cringe. It wasn’t like they’d been in the desert, he could have waited and brought Daisy inside to use soap and water. Miss Wills wasn’t anything like what he’d expected her to look like, which didn’t help his nerves at all. She was petite, full figured, had red hair that matched her daughter’s and was starting to smile like the sun. At him.
“Thank you. So much,” Ophelia wrapped an arm around her daughter and pulled her up so that the little girl was on Mama’s hip. Clyde was decidedly pleasant to look at, especially in the guise of an Edwardian barkeep - even if his goatee wasn’t remotely period but good luck getting Clyde Logan to shave someone had laughed. Her heart was still racing but Daisy was clinging close to Mama and everything was all right.
“It kinda hurt but I didn’t cry,” Daisy announced with pride and Ophelia laughed a little. She still needed to wash off her daughter’s face and get her new stockings, plus check if the hoop was actually broken (it probably wasn’t). Maybe see if she could get Daisy interested in playing Graces instead? It wasn’t going to happen but a Mom can dream.
“Good job,” she kissed Daisy’s face again for good measure but couldn’t help sneaking a glance over at the tall man who seemed to be fiddling with his bottles (arranged on a beat up wooden table) with a small reddening of his face. “Are you planning to hang around a bit after everything winds down?”
“Can if’n you need me, ma’am.” He answered too quickly, especially for himself. Miss Wills just looked… Well, she wasn’t the sort of woman you’d kick outta bed for eating crackers!
“I’d appreciate it, I need to get -”
“Stay for dinner!” Daisy called out, cutting off her mother with the first smile since she’d taken her tumble.
“Daisy, Mr. Logan probably has plans for dinner,” Ophelia flushed a little although she watching his reaction a bit too closely. Just in case…
“Not to speak of,” Clyde answered quickly again. He didn’t even have his civies on hand so he’d be stuck in this all night. Worth it though, he decided, as Ophelia smiled slowly.
“Then consider yourself invited.” She might have winked, if Ophelia wasn’t cradling her daughter against her. So instead, she started for the little house that she shared with Daisy on the property and called out over her shoulder, “It’s taco night!”
“I’ll be there,” he called back. He was gonna hafta call Jimmy and find someone to cover the bar since he hadn’t actually been planning on bein’ anywhere else tonight. But a little kid had invited him over for dinner, you can’t just ignore that. Besides… He was mighty fond of tacos!