The Blacksmith’s Bravery (15 page)

Griffin carried his toolbox inside the smithy and set it down near the door, where he always left it. A glance at the forge told him the fire had burned down enough so he could safely leave it. He opened the door to his living quarters to let some of the heat in there.

Walking back through the smithy, he shut the outside door and unhitched the mule he'd shod. The mules he'd purchased looked good, if a little thin. And the palomino—he'd show the horse to Hiram next time he came around. If his friend didn't want it, Griffin could let it out as a livery horse, but he thought Hiram and Libby would both be pleased.

He led the mule around to the corral behind the livery and headed into the barn for a couple of lead ropes. To his surprise, when he came out again Justin was waiting for him.

“Did you get washed?” Griffin growled.

“No, sir.”

“Wash your hands and comb your hair.” He turned toward the smaller enclosure, beyond the corral where he kept the stage teams. He'd put the palomino out there, along with a colt he'd taken in trade last summer.

“I could lead that spotted horse in for you.”

He looked askance at Justin, hardly knowing how to respond to an offer of help. “Whyn't you take Mrs. Adams's palomino? I'll get the colt.”

“I thought that was the horse you just bought.”

“It is.” Griffin opened the gate to the small corral. The palomino walked placidly toward him, and the colt trotted over, swinging his head and snorting. “I bought it for a friend of mine, Hiram Dooley. He's getting married soon, and he asked me to find a nice horse for his fiancée.”

“So… does the spotted one belong to you?”

“Yup.” Griffin clipped a lead rope to the palomino's halter and placed the end in Justin's hands. “Careful, now. Don't let him step on you. Put him in the first stall on the right.”

The colt tried to duck past Griffin.

“Hold it, buster.” Griffin snagged his halter and pulled his head down. “There we go.” He hooked the snap on the end of the rope to a ring in the halter. “All right, mind your manners.” He walked on the colt's left, holding back and downward on the rope, forcing the colt to walk beside him. This one had fire.

As he stepped inside the barn, Justin called, “Now what?”

“Hook the chain that's hitched to the wall to his halter and unhook the rope.” Griffin took the colt into the stall next to the palomino's. “I'll get them some feed and roll the doors shut.”

Justin came out of the stall. “Want me to close the front door?”

“Thanks. That would be good.”

By the time he'd fed the two horses, Justin had both big doors closed.

“All right. Now we need to clean up.”

“That paint horse sure is pretty,” Justin said.

Griffin grunted and eyed the boy in the dim light. “He's too young to ride yet.”

“Really? He's big.”

“He'll be two in the spring. I'll start training him then. And until I do, I don't want anyone messing with him, you understand?” “Yes, sir.”

Griffin relaxed a little. “Come on.” He opened the rear door just far enough to squeeze through, and he and Justin went out. Darkness had fallen, and he shivered in the chilly breeze. “I thought you didn't like horses.”

Justin shrugged. “I never been around them much.”

“Guess you saw more of that mule than you wanted to today.”

Justin let out a short laugh.

“You sore?” Griffin asked.

“Some.”

“It'll be worse in the morning.” They walked over to the smithy. Griffin jerked his head toward the open door. He hated to let the boy see his disorderly living quarters, but he didn't see a way around it. “Come on, we're heating the outdoors.”

Griffin and the boy appeared in the dining room half an hour after Vashti had left them. Both had damp comb marks through their hair, and Griffin had changed his shirt. The hot smell of the forge lingered on him, but Vashti didn't mind it. She smiled broadly as she led them to a table in the corner near the fireplace. In chilly weather, Augie kept the heater stove ticking, but Bitsy still liked to have a fire on the grate for atmosphere. “People feel warmer when they see the logs burning,” she said.

Justin stumbled a bit as he pulled out his chair. Vashti figured he wouldn't be so clumsy if he'd quit staring at her. She couldn't wear her shawl while waiting on tables.

“I'll bring you water,” she said. “Would you like coffee, Mr. Bane?”

“Lots of it, and strong.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at Justin. “And you, Mr. Frye?”

Justin glanced at his uncle, then back at her. “The same.”

“Very good. Our dinner special tonight is roast chicken, but we also have a venison stew simmering.”

“Bring me some of both,” Griffin said. “And plenty of biscuits.”

Vashti tucked in her smile and turned her attention to the boy. “And you, sir?”

“I'll have the chicken, please. And some of those biscuits.”

“I'll bring a basketful.”

She walked briskly to the kitchen. Bitsy was picking up two full chicken plates for Oscar and Bertha Runnels.

“Mr. Bane and his nephew are here,” Vashti said.

“Oh good. I can't wait to see the boy.” Bitsy lifted her tray and brushed past her with her taffeta skirts swishing.

“I'll need a basketful of biscuits for those two,” Vashti said to Augie. “Hope you and Bitsy don't go broke from your charitable efforts.”

“Giving away samples is good for business. If the boy likes my cookin', Griff will have him over here at least once a week. Bachelors don't want to have to cook for kids.”

Vashti chuckled. “That's true. But he is putting Justin up at the Fennel House.”

“Oh.” Augie's bald head glistened in the lamplight as he reached to stir the big iron kettle on the stove. “Well, maybe they'll still come around now and again.”

“Let's hope so. Two chicken dinners and one stew.”

“Who's the third person?”

“Griffin.”

Augie laughed. “He always did like my venison stew.”

A few more customers drifted in, and Vashti stayed busy for several minutes. When she got back to Griffin and Justin, both had cleaned their plates.

“That was good food,” Griffin said.

“Yes'm.” Justin looked up at her with a shy smile. “Did you cook it?”

Vashti laughed. “No, not me. That would be Mr. Moore. He's the finest cook in Fergus.”

“A man?” The boy's face stretched to new lengths.

Griffin let out a bellow of laughter. “You've never seen Augie, kid, or you wouldn't say that. He could make hash out of you with one hand.”

“Would you like dessert?” Vashti asked Justin. “Mr. Moore makes delicious cakes and pies, too. You had one of his cinnamon buns earlier today.”

“Two,” Griffin said.

She flashed him a smile. So the boss had given one to Marty and eaten one himself and let the boy have the other two. Somehow, that warmed her feelings toward Griffin.

“What have you got for pies?” Justin asked.

She pointed to the bar that Hiram Dooley had remodeled into an efficient serving counter. “Why don't you step over and see for yourself? There're several varieties.” She raised her eyebrows at Griffin.

“Just bring me apple pie with a hunk of cheese,” he said. “And more coffee.”

Justin pushed back his chair. “Uh, will you please excuse me,

Uncle Griff?”

“To pick out your pie? Why, surely.”

The boy walked away, and Vashti said softly, “Well now, he's got manners.”

“Yes, when he chooses to dust them off.”

She hesitated a moment then said, “You know, leaving home at that age isn't easy. Chances are, he feels as though his mother didn't want him around anymore.”

Griffin's bushy eyebrows drew together. “I can understand why. I had him here ten minutes and had to go pull him out of a saloon.”

“I can see he was a handful for her.”

“That's putting it mildly.” Griffin watched Justin as he walked slowly along the counter, eyeing each confection. “Truth is, my sister was a little scared of him and of his friends, I think. The trouble they
might bring on her and the other young'uns.”

Vashti nodded. “You can be a good influence in his life, Griffin Bane.”

Griff sighed. “I'm beginning to think he'll be a bad one on me.” She chuckled. “I'll get that pie and coffee for you.” “Wait a sec.”

“Yes?”

He shot another glance at Justin. “You've mentioned before that you had a tough time of it as a youngster. Someday, maybe you'll tell me about that.”

Vashti looked at him for a long moment. “You'd really want to hear?”

“I'm starting to think I should listen to people who know about kids. What it's like to be a kid.” He shrugged in apology. “Seems like a long time ago, and… well, he's not like I was.”

She nodded, though she thought,
Maybe more like you than you realize
.
Justin headed back their way, carrying a plate with two pieces of pie on it. “We'll sit down sometime. But not tonight. You look exhausted, and I think you need to make sure Justin's safe for the night.”

Griffin shook his head. “I can't watch him every minute.”

“No, but you've gotten him banned from the worst place in town, and there's no stagecoach out until tomorrow. Unless he steals a horse, he's stuck here.”

“I've thought of that, and I wouldn't put it past him.”

She hurried away to get Griffin's dessert and coffee. Doc Kincaid and the Hamiltons had come in while she talked, and Bitsy threw her a glance begging for help. Vashti took Griffin a generous slice of pie with cheese on the side and refilled his coffee, and then she turned to the Hamiltons' table.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, folks. We have a delicious roast chicken dinner tonight and a savory venison stew.”

“Oh, the stew sounds good,” said Mr. Hamilton. “What'll you have, dear?”

Vashti glanced back at Griffin's table. His eyelids drooped as he reached for his coffee mug, but he seemed to be listening as Justin
talked with more animation than she'd seen so far on the boy's face.

Mrs. Hamilton said, “I believe I'll try that stew as well.”

Vashti smiled at them. “Very good. Would you like coffee?”

“Could you bring us a pot of tea?” Mrs. Hamilton asked, cringing almost as though she were asking for something very rare and difficult to produce.

“Of course. I'll be just a moment.” As she turned away, Vashti looked once more at Griffin. He was still listening to his nephew, but a tolerant smile lit his face.

That's the way you ought to look all the time
, she thought.
Griffin Bane, you could be a very handsome man
.

CHAPTER 10

V
ashti stayed on her feet, serving the customers long after Griffin and Justin left the Spur & Saddle. About seven thirty, Goldie came in from the kitchen. Though she'd spent the entire day working at the emporium, she smiled at the diners and sat down before the piano. Soon lilting music filled the restaurant. Mr. Hamilton gave her fifty cents to play “Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair.” Next, Dr. Kincaid requested “Silver Threads among the Gold.” After several more numbers, Goldie covered the keyboard and accepted the people's applause with a becoming blush.