The Blacksmith’s Bravery (29 page)

Griffin and the others saddled their mounts quickly and added Marty to the group. Three miles out of town, they met a lone rider.

He cantered toward them and pulled up when he got close. “Hey, Sheriff!”

“What is it?” Ethan called.

Griffin recognized one of the tenders from the Democrat Station.

“Where's the Nampa stage?”

“Robbed. My boss took two men and a fresh team out. It's not supposed to be far from the station, but we didn't hear any gunfire, so it must be a piece.”

Griffin swallowed hard. “Where's the driver?”

The man grinned. “The boss made her stay at the station with his wife. She didn't want to, but she was wore out and cold. Boss said they'd bring in the coach and passengers and then she could drive on to Fergus. But she says they need a doctor bad.”

Griffin urged Pepper into a gallop. As he rode away he heard Ethan telling Justin to ride back to town as fast as he could and find Doc Kincaid and his deputies.

At the stage stop, Griffin jumped to the ground and ran inside. Mrs. Jordan turned from where she was tending the stove. “Mr. Bane, you scared me.”

“Where's my driver? Georgie Edwards.”

“She's yonder.” Mrs. Jordan nodded toward a doorway. “Poor thing was plum tuckered out.” She stepped to the closed door and tapped on it. “Miss Edwards? You awake, honey? Mr. Bane's here.”

A moment later the door swung open. Vashti stood blinking at him, wearing her green woolen trousers and tan shirt, with the vest hanging open and her auburn hair spilling all rumpled about her shoulders. Her green eyes looked suspiciously red-rimmed.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what? Getting held up?”

“Everything.” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “They wouldn't let me ride back to the stage with them. I wanted to.”

“Of course you did.”

“She walked up here to tell us what happened,” Mrs. Jordan said.

Ethan knocked at the front door and stuck his head in. “Should we go on, Griff?”

“Yeah. I'm coming. Just wanted to hear from Vashti what happened.”

“Four men, in the rocks. Three of them had horses, and the other one was on foot. They shot Ned and stole all four of our horses.” She raised one hand to her mouth. “He needs a doctor, Griff.”

“We sent for Dr. Kincaid,” Ethan said.

Griffin reached out and ran his hand over her tangled hair. “Are you all right, Georgie?”

She nodded. “And the miners that rode with me tried to save the mail. I think they got most of it.”

“All right. You rest, and we'll head out there.”

“Please let me come.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I hated to leave Ned like that.”

“Anyone else hurt?”

She gulped and shook her head. “They shot him in the arm, but it's an awful mess. He's bled a lot. Emmaline was tending him when I left. Please let me come with you.”

Griffin looked at Ethan, and Ethan shrugged.

“The men took all the horses we had here,” Mrs. Jordan said.

“That fella that walked in with Georgie took one, and my husband and Buddy. We sent Hank to find you, Sheriff. That and the team of mules was all the critters we had.”

“You can ride with me.” Griffin wasn't sure where the words came from, but they popped out of his mouth. Vashti dashed back into the bedroom and came out hauling on her coat.

He made sure she had a hat, her muffler, and gloves before he let her swing up behind him on Pepper's back. She reached around him and hugged his middle as Pepper began to trot.

“You going to be okay?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Yes. But loping would be better.”

He loosened Pepper's reins, and Vashti clung to him like a little burr. She was warm against his back, and when the road got steep and Pepper slowed down, she leaned her head against him. Griffin wished they could keep on riding like that a ways, but the coach wasn't far. Ethan, Bitsy, Micah, and Marty reached it before he did.

From a distance, he could see Emmaline run into her husband's arms. Those two might bicker, but when it counted, their marriage was solid.

The passengers surrounded Ethan. All of them talked at once, but he held up his hands.

“Easy, folks. I want to hear from all of you, one at a time. First I want to take a look at Mr. Harmon and assess the damage. As soon as the rest of my deputies get here, I'll be going after those outlaws. Anything you can tell me about them will help.

Griffin pulled up near where Ned lay on the ground, turned, and grasped Vashti's hand. She held on to him and slid to the ground.

“How's Ned?” she asked Emmaline.

“Not very good, but the men from the station said they'd sent for a doctor.”

“That's right, and a couple of my deputies, too.”

Emmaline nodded. “Well, I hope Ned makes it. Mr. Jordan brought two blankets when he came with the mule team, and we've got Ned lying on one, with the other bundled around him.”

Vashti knelt beside Ned, and Griffin crouched on his other side.

“Ned, can you hear me?” Vashti's tone was a wheedling plea, but Ned didn't open his eyes.

Griffin clenched his teeth. He didn't want to lose Ned, especially not this way. Vashti would never stop blaming herself, though it wasn't her fault.

“Harmon!”

Ned twitched.

“Harmon, open your eyes,” Griffin barked. “I want to know what happened here.”

Slowly Ned's eyelids lifted. “Sorry, boss. We tried.”

“I know you did.” Griffin reached out a hand to clap him on the shoulder, but stopped. It would probably hurt Ned. “I'm not blaming you or Vashti. Listen, we've got Doc Kincaid coming, and some men are hitching up a new team. Will you let me lift you into the stage?”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Griffin slid an arm under the wool cocoon, judging where Ned's knees were. His other arm he carefully snaked under Ned's back. Ned
moaned, and Vashti reached from the other side to help lift him enough for Griffin to get his arms in place.

“Make sure the coach door's open,” Griff said. He stood with the limp burden in his arms and walked toward the stagecoach.

CHAPTER 20

V
ashti's stomach fluttered as Griffin counted out her pay. As each bill hit her palm, the tickle rose until she felt she'd burst. She'd be able to pay Bitsy and Augie for a month's board and room and also pay what remained on her bill at the emporium.

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”

“Thanks, Mr. Bane.”

“Griffin. And you earned it.”

She ducked her head. “I still feel like I ought to help pay to replace the horses and harness.”

“Unfortunately, that's part of my business expense.” Griffin's eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you want to do the mail run again next week?”

“Yes, sir. I'll be ready.”

“Because I could maybe find someone—”

“I want to do it.”

He looked down into her eyes for a long moment. Vashti felt the tickle move toward her heart. He looked handsome today, less shaggy. Must have trimmed his beard.

“Vashti, I don't want anything to happen to you.”

She nodded. “Thanks. But don't you think they'll go more for the stages carrying treasure? Some of the mines will be shipping out gold again, and payrolls will be coming through regular.”

“Yes. And you'll be carrying some of them.”

She gulped. “Think the outlaws know when we're carrying something valuable?”

“It'll be pretty much even odds this summer. If they hit often enough, they'll get something eventually.” Griffin scrunched up his mouth. “I guess I'd better line up some more guards. If we've got to deal with an outlaw gang this year, it's going to be rough going, no matter what run you're driving.”

“Sheriff Chapman didn't find any trace of them, did he?”

“No. He was able to track them until they got into the rocks.”

“I'm really sorry they got your rifle and Ned's shotgun.”

Griffin sat down on the edge of his desk. “Well, don't fret over it. I'll put in my claim to the government for the guns and horses, since it was a mail coach. And I'll make sure you've got a good messenger next time.”

She looked up at him. “Who will ride with me now that Ned's laid up?”

“We'll see.” He looked worried, and she didn't press him.

“I'm really sorry we lost the horses, but I especially regret that Ned got hurt.”

“Have you seen him since we brought him in?” Griffin asked.

“Yeah, I went over to Doc's yesterday. Ned was in a lot of pain.”

“I saw him this morning.” Griffin's brown eyes darkened. “The doc says his arm may never be right again. And he'll need several weeks to recuperate.”

“He lost a lot of blood,” Vashti said softly. “I should have stayed and helped Emmaline.”

“You couldn't do that and go for help, too. Besides, she had the other passengers. Doc said there wasn't much else they could have done besides what she did—making a bandage and trying to stop the bleeding.”

Vashti looked down at the money in her hand. Maybe she'd spend a dollar or so on a new petticoat for Emmaline, to replace the one she used to cover Ned's wound.

On Monday morning, Vashti mounted the stage box outside the livery and prepared to drive around to the Wells Fargo office. She had a team of four sorrel horses for a mostly downhill run. Warm
sunshine beat down on her. She couldn't see any snow left in town, though the mountains still wore their snowy cloaks, and the north slopes probably still held pockets of it. The horses stamped and nickered, ready to go. If not for the fresh memory of the robbery, she'd have sung a tune under her breath.

To her surprise, when the mail and nine passengers were loaded and a green wooden treasure box was lodged in the front boot, behind her feet, Griffin himself mounted the box and sat down beside her, holding two guns. He slid a Sharps rifle under their seat and held the shotgun up against his shoulder.

“Ready, Georgie?”

She swallowed hard.
“You're
riding with me?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her pulse rate doubled. Could she ride twenty-five miles with Griffin Bane sitting next to her? How would she ever concentrate on the horses? It was bad enough sitting next to her boss, but lately her heart had done strange things when he was close by. She'd pondered far too much on the brief ride she'd taken on his horse with him the day of the robbery.

“What about Justin?” she asked. “What'll he do tonight?”

“Mrs. Thistle is happy to have him as a guest once more.”

Vashti gathered the reins. If she put it off any longer, they'd start late, and keeping the conversation going wouldn't put a different shotgun rider at her side. She signaled Marty, and he let go of the leaders' heads. They broke into a smooth trot. This was her dream—good horses, a fine coach, and an open road. She wouldn't think about the stretch that ran through the rocks.