The Blacksmith’s Bravery (16 page)

Vashti had taken away all the dirty dishes but the coffee cups by then, and the diners soon ambled home. As she cleared off the last table, Goldie came to help her.

“You go on up to bed,” Vashti said. “I know you're tired.”

“The people are so nice now.” Goldie's eyes reflected the light of the lamps and the candle chandelier. “In the old days, the cowboys wanted me to play my fingers to the bone, but they never applauded like that—like they respected me, I mean.”

Vashti gave her a hug. “You deserve that respect. And a good night's sleep. Go on—Bitsy and I will get these done in no time.”

As Goldie drifted up the staircase, Vashti looked up in surprise to see Griffin again coming through the doorway.

“Mr. Bane!”

“I guess you're closing.”

“Well… the coffeepot's still on the stove.”

“Would you join me for a cup?”

Vashti hesitated, her pulse tripping. “Let me just take these to the kitchen. I'll be right back.”

Bitsy had already washed most of the dishes, and Augie was drying them and stacking them on the shelves.

“This is the last of them.” Vashti held out a pile of cups and saucers.

Bitsy took them and plunged them into her pan of sudsy water.

“Uh… Mr. Bane came back.”

“Oh?” Bitsy frowned. “What does he want?”

“Coffee. And conversation, I guess. He asked me to sit with him. Earlier he said he'd like to talk to me about Justin.”

“Can't see any harm in that.” Bitsy looked over at Augie. “What do you think?”

“Well, I dunno. Has Griff got designs on our adopted daughter?”

Bitsy flicked some soapsuds at him. “The day Griffin Bane falls in love is the day somebody finds the Blue Bucket Mine.”

Augie laughed at her reference to the legend of a “lost” gold mine. “Stranger things have happened.”

“That's right. You finally convinced me to marry you, didn't you?”

“Yup. Mighty strange, but I'm tickled pink.” Augie squeezed her.

Vashti laughed. “I'm pretty sure it's not romance Mr. Bane has in mind. The boy's giving him headaches, and he's only been here half a day.”

“Go on, girl,” Bitsy said. “Just don't let him stay too late.”

Vashti ran a hand over her hair, wondering if it looked all stringy and scraggly. She hadn't noticed her reflection in the big mirror for hours. What if Griffin really was interested in her? Would that be so bad? More likely, he'd tell her again why she couldn't hold a man's job and ask for more advice on dealing with Justin. Her past had taught her not to count on good things happening out of the blue. She took off her apron and went back to the dining room, a bit wary.

Griffin stood by the woodstove, pouring himself a big mug full of coffee.

“Hope you don't mind.”

“No, that's fine.” Vashti walked over and sat down at the table
nearest the stove, where Griffin and Justin had sat earlier. “We put the pies away, but I could get you a piece.”

“That's all right. I ate plenty.”

“Where's Justin?”

“In bed at the Fennel House. I made sure he was sleeping this time.”

“First night in a strange bed. You sure?”

“Oh yeah. I tickled his foot to see if he was faking it. What you said earlier about him stealing a horse made me think. He might do that—just take one from the livery—if he doesn't like it here.”

“Do you want him to like it here?”

Griffin winced. “Not sure.” He sipped his coffee and set the mug down. “I guess what I really want is for him to apologize to his mama and go home and take care of her like a man should.”

“What are the chances?”

“Slim to none.”

Vashti nodded. “That's about the way I saw it. That boy's got a lot of growing up to do.”

“Well, I'm not sure I know how to help him do it.”

“Put him to work, but not too hard. Let him see that he can do things—make things. Like you do.”

“I don't know as I can get him to work around the smithy.”

“Did you when you were his age?”

“Yes, but I was interested in it. I'd go by the smithy in our town after school and watch old Jack Hogan shoeing horses. And when he'd put a piece of metal in the fire and bring it out all yellow-hot and glowing and hammer it into a hinge or a spoon or something else useful, well, that seemed like magic to me.” He picked up his mug. “But Justin's got no such inclination.”

“Does he like horses?”

“I would have said not overly—he acted a little scared of riding at first. But he did perk up when he saw that yearling colt I've got in my barn.”

“Hmm.”

“He rides like a sack of flour in the saddle.”

“Ouch. And he rode all the way from Boise?”

“Yeah. Maybe that was a poor decision on my part. We could have stayed over at Nampa or Reynolds, or I could have sent him on in the coach. But think how much mischief he could have gotten into until I got here.”

“True. He'll get over the sore muscles in a few days.” She thought about Griffin's situation. “There ought to be lots of things a boy could do around your place. Lots more than a girl can. And if he likes horses…”

“Yeah. If I give him a few pointers and give him decent mounts, he might get to be a good rider. The thing is, he's here, and I'm responsible for him. I couldn't just turn him loose, even if I felt like it. He's too young to take care of himself.”

“Didn't you take care of yourself at his age?”

“Yes, but Justin—he doesn't seem to have any common sense, and he wants to butt heads with life, not learn how to make things work for him.”

Vashti smiled ruefully. “Sounds like me in some ways.”

Griffin focused on her with a pensive frown. “I've been wondering about you. How you got to be on your own so young. Didn't you have anyone to take care of you?”

She shook her head. “I was eleven when my folks died.”

“What'd you do then?”

“Went to live with some kinfolk—my mother's cousin. I called her Aunt Mary. But I—I couldn't stay there.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated, wondering how much to spill. “Mostly because of Uncle Joshua.”

Griffin was quiet for a moment, then took a sip of his coffee. He set the mug down and met her gaze. “I see.”

“Do you? I told Aunt Mary when he bothered me, but she didn't believe me. Said I was a bad girl for making up such tales. I ran away after less than a year. Headed west.” She gave a little chuckle. “I thought maybe I could find a place where I'd fit in and could get a job of some sort. I found out quick enough there aren't any jobs for twelve-year-old girls.”

“That's awful young to be on your own, boy or girl.” Griffin's voice
had taken on a gentle tone, and his eyes were velvety like an elk's.

“Yes. Far too young.” Vashti stood, suddenly unable to sit under his scrutiny. “I believe I'll have some coffee, too.” She went to the stove and took her time pouring a cupful. When she sat down again, she took a sip. Too hot and too strong. She blew on the surface of the dark liquid.

“You want to tell me the rest? How you got here?”

She considered whether she wanted to or not. “It was a long journey. But looking back, I believe the Lord brought me here.”

He nodded slowly. “I can understand that. I reckon He wanted me here, too, at a time when I didn't know I needed Him. And now the boy…”

“Yes.” Vashti thought about the path they had all followed to Fergus. “I know Justin wasn't in the same situation I was, but I believe you can help him avoid going down a dark road.”

“How? What can I do to keep him out of trouble?”

“Take care of him. Teach him to do honest work. And maybe, sooner or later, you'll learn to love him. Because he is your kin.”

Griffin lowered his head. “I would have kept him with me at my place, but it's a wreck. I figured he'd be better off at the Fennel House. I mean, I've got that one little room behind the smithy, and it's hardly as big as a tobacco tin. Can't turn around without bumping something. And… well, it's not the cleanest, either. I admit I've never been much at housework.”

“You could stay with him at the boardinghouse.”

He pressed his lips together for a moment. “That'd cost a lot. Winter's coming—my slack time.”

“Well, maybe you'll think of some other arrangements. But you need to show the boy that you care about him.”

“So far, that's been kind of hard.” Griffin squinted at her and squirmed a little in the chair.

“Hard to like a boy who's not likable?”

“I guess I thought he'd be glad to see me. That he'd want to live out here and learn what I do and… well, that he'd take to the West. And to me.”

“He still might.”

Griffin cleared his throat. “Look, it won't be long before we get snow in the mountains. The road to Silver City will close. They used to keep it broken all winter, but since the bigger mines shut down…”

She nodded.

“The road to Boise might stay open another month, if we're lucky. But I still can't let you drive.”

“I understand, Mr. Bane. It's still a dream of mine, but I know I'm not ready.”

“Look, I… maybe I can let you do the Boise run—as far as Nampa, that is—as a shotgun messenger for the next couple of weeks. You'd ride with Johnny Conway. I could put Ned Harmon on with Bill until the Silver City road closes.”

She nodded, trying not to show her excitement. She'd rather ride with steady old Bill Stout than with Johnny Conway, but at this point, she'd take whatever run Griffin would give her.

“Thank you. I promise you I'll defend the stage as well as any man.”

“All right. It's a twice-a-week run this time of year, and I can only promise you two weeks. After that, it depends on the weather, because Ned's one of my regular men, and if he can't do the run to Silver, I'll give him whatever's open to keep him working as long as I can. He's been faithful to me. But you can be ready Monday, and if nothing drastic happens, you can ride with Johnny.”

Vashti scarcely heard anything after he said, “All right.” The joy that welled up in her threatened to burst out in a wild laugh. She wanted to hug him and kiss him and shout to Bitsy and Augie that he'd hired her. Instead, she clamped her teeth together and smiled serenely. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 11

J
ohnny Conway looked Vashti up and down as she climbed up to the box to sit beside him. When she sat down, he spat tobacco juice off the side of the stagecoach and said, “You look better in your fancy dresses, darlin'.”

“Don't call me that, and don't talk about me bein'a girl.”

“Oh, pardon me.” Johnny looked ahead to where Griff and Marty were holding the leaders' bridles and nodded. “Get up now!”

The holders released the team, and they sprang forward, breaking into their road trot. Vashti was a little surprised that Johnny didn't make the horses canter to show off in front of the people watching from the sidewalk.

They rolled up Main Street and out of town, and she settled back, watching the road ahead and cradling the shotgun in her arms. “Mr. Bane said you might give me some driving tips.”

“Ha! Why should I teach you to drive? Next you'll be wantin' my job.”

“Mr. Bane says he has trouble keeping steady drivers.”

“I'm steady,” Johnny said.

“Didn't say you wasn't.”

“Humph.”

They rode in silence for a good hour. The coach swayed along.

The horses' hooves clopped on the packed road. They passed the ranches to the north of Fergus and came down out of the mountains to rolling hills. Gradually the air warmed a bit, and Vashti peeled her
gloves off. They passed a horseman headed toward Fergus—one of the cowboys from the Landry ranch. Vashti and Johnny waved. The cowpoke waved back then turned his head to follow Vashti with a perplexed stare.