The Blacksmith’s Bravery (22 page)

The boy swung around and faced him. “That's what I call him in my head. Does he have another name?”

“No. No, Champ's a good name.”

Justin smiled.

Justin rode ahead on Red while Griffin drove the sleigh placidly down the road. Libby sat beside him, mostly covered by a woolen quilt, cradling a large basket on her lap.

“Your nephew was very polite this morning,” she said.

“He's progressing,” Griffin replied.

“Have you heard anything from his mother?”

“I telegraphed her when Justin arrived, to tell her he'd gotten here safe, and we had one letter after that. To be frank, she seemed relieved to have Justin off her hands.”

“That's too bad.” Libby threw Griffin a smile. “It might be the best thing for you, though, and I think Justin will benefit from being with you.”

“I hope you're right, ma'am.”

Libby had long been known as the most beautiful woman in town, and Griffin had always felt intimidated in her presence, especially since her husband died. All the single men in Fergus had watched her, but none he knew of had dared to approach her in
the first two years of her widowhood. Then, all of a sudden, Hiram Dooley was courting her. How that had come about, Griffin couldn't quite fathom. Hiram spoke so little, he couldn't imagine how the two of them passed the time when they were alone. In fact, Hiram would have been the last man in Fergus he'd have put money on to win Libby's hand. Maybe Hiram knew something he didn't.

“Will you send him to school during the winter term?” Libby asked.

Griffin jerked his head up, startled. “I hadn't thought about it. He reads and ciphers better than I do.”

“He might do well with more education.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Doctors and lawyers start somewhere, Mr. Bane. Many have humble beginnings. Do you know what interests your nephew?”

“Can't say as I do.”

“Maybe you should ask him.”

Griffin felt he'd been mildly rebuked—but she was right. Justin had been with him more than a month, and he didn't know how the boy had spent his free time back in Pennsylvania or what he aspired to do when he was grown. Griffin had worried about keeping him away from a life of crime but hadn't considered how to keep him occupied.

By the time he turned in at the lane to the Chapman ranch, Justin had far outdistanced them, and he was unsaddling Red in Ethan's barn when Griffin drew the sled up in front of the ranch house.

“Welcome,” Trudy called from the porch. Ethan and Hiram stood with her.

Hiram came down the steps and offered Libby his hand. She took it and climbed out of the sled, smiling all over.

“Drive right to the barn, Griff,” said Ethan. “I'll come help you unhitch.”

The McDade boys were helping Justin hang up his tack and stable Red.

“Thought those boys only worked for you in summer,” Griffin said to Ethan.

“I kept them on this fall. I've been running a lot more cattle since
Trudy and I got married. They're doing my chores today and going home tomorrow to have a late Christmas with their folks. I'm giving them a couple of weeks off.”

“Hey, boss,” Johnny McDade called, “is it all right if Justin comes over to the bunkhouse until dinnertime?”

Ethan looked at Griffin and arched his eyebrows.

“I guess so,” Griffin said.

“Sure,” Ethan told Johnny. “Just come when Mrs. Chapman rings the dinner bell.” They put Griffin's team away and hung up the harness. As they walked back toward the house, Ethan said, “They're high-spirited boys, but they're good workers.”

Griffin sat down with his hosts in the big sitting room for a few minutes. Trudy wanted all the town gossip.

“You'll have to get the news from Libby,” Griffin told her. “I don't exactly hear all the rumors.”

Libby and Hiram sat off to one side, talking in low tones, holding hands, and smiling a lot. Ethan and Griffin discussed Ethan's ranching and sheriffing, and Griffin's smithing and stage coaching.

After about twenty minutes, Trudy jumped up. “I'd better go see if that goose is done.”

Libby rose, too, still smiling at Hiram. “Let me help you, Trudy.”

The two women disappeared through an archway. The savory smells increased, and Griffin's stomach rumbled.

“You got yourself a good one there, Hi,” Ethan said.

“I know it.” Hiram came over and sat down where Trudy had been. “So how are you and Justin doing at the old house?”

Griffin ran a hand across his beard. “Not too bad. It's a sight better than my little place.”

Hiram nodded. “Glad it's working out for you.”

Griffin still couldn't believe the change that had come over Hiram these past few months. “When are you and Libby going to tie the knot?”

“As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton come back and pay her for the store.”

They talked for a while longer, until Libby came and told them dinner was ready.

“Is Trudy going to ring the bell for the boys?” Ethan asked.

“I can mosey out there and tell them,” Griffin offered. He was curious as to how Justin was getting along with the McDades. He'd only met the boys once or twice at church. Both were older than Justin and seemed much more mature.

“Hold on. I'll go with you.” Ethan handed Griffin his coat and hat and grabbed his own from pegs near the front door.

They ambled across the barnyard, talking about the chance of more snow. Ethan opened the bunkhouse door and stepped inside.

“Well, boys, dinner's about ready.”

Griffin followed him. Justin had been seated with his back to the door, but he jumped up and whirled around with as guilty a face as Griffin had ever seen.

“All right, boss,” Spin McDade said, shoving his chair back and throwing down a hand of cards.

“You boys playing poker?” Ethan sounded slightly scandalized.

“Just having fun,” Johnny said with a shrug. “We don't usually get someone else to take a hand with.”

Griffin frowned but decided to say nothing. He didn't want to embarrass Ethan by making a fuss, and anyway, he'd played his share of poker games. Evelyn probably wouldn't approve, but she'd given Justin's care entirely over to him.

“You're not taking Justin for every penny he's got, are you?” Ethan threw Griff an apologetic glance.

“I don't have any money, sir,” Justin said. “We're playing for matchsticks.” His face flushed, and he had trouble meeting Ethan's gaze.

“Aha. Well, come on and get washed up.”

The boys ran ahead of them to the house.

“Sorry about that,” Ethan said as he and Griffin followed.

Griffin shrugged. “His mother probably wouldn't like it, but they were just passing time. How old are those boys?”

“Spin's almost twenty. Johnny's seventeen. I never thought—”

Griffin held one hand up. “If they'd been in the Nugget playing, that'd be one thing.”

“I always tell them to watch themselves in town. They know I
won't put up with any nonsense. I can't. I mean, I'm the sheriff.”

“I know,” Griffin said. “Don't worry about it.”

Ethan stamped his feet to get rid of the snow before climbing the steps. “Did you get Justin a present?”

“Yup. I'm giving him a bridle for the spotted colt he's going to help me train. And a pocketknife.”

“Nice gifts for a boy that age.”

“What'd you get Trudy?”

“A dress from New York. I had Libby pick it out and order it. Trudy will probably say it's too fine for her to wear.”

“What'll you do if she won't wear it?”

“Oh, I think she will, though she might hang it up and look at it for a while first.” Ethan chuckled. “And I got her something else she'll like real well.”

“What's that?”

“A sweet, tooled leather scabbard to go on her saddle.”

“Oh yeah, she'll like that. I guess Hiram's giving Libby the palomino today.”

“That's the plan.”

Griffin half wished for a moment that he had a special lady to give things to. It would be kind of fun to order something fancy from back East for someone pretty. He had a fleeting vision of putting a sparkly chain around the neck of an auburn-haired girl with green eyes. He shook his head as they entered the house. That would only mean spending more money, and he'd had enough trouble getting Christmas gifts for Justin. Besides, he had no intention of getting tangled up with a woman anytime soon—even one as pretty and spunky as Vashti Edwards.

At the Spur & Saddle, Christmas Day overflowed with visitors. Terrence Thistle had declared it a holiday for his wife, Rilla, at the Fennel House. Consequently, all the boarders walked down the street for dinner. Dr. Kincaid and Isabel Fennel also came to enjoy Augie's lavish ham dinner, as did Charles and Orissa Walker. Vashti and Goldie helped the Moores serve ten for dinner and then sat down
together at three in the afternoon to celebrate with their own small “family.”

Augie came from the kitchen carrying a covered dish. “I held back a sweet potato apiece.”

“Oh good!” Goldie jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I thought sure the guests had gotten them all, and I wanted one something fierce.”

After the blessing, they tucked into the ham, gravy, biscuits, cranberry sauce, squash, and carrots, along with the sweet potatoes.

“I believe I'm too full to eat any pie.” Vashti leaned back and patted her stomach with regret.

Augie looked over at Bitsy and winked. “Maybe we should hold the sweets until after we see what Santy Claus brought.”

Goldie chuckled. “Augie, you haven't let the fire go out long enough for Santa to come down the chimney.”

“'S'all you know. Santy's magic. Isn't that so, darlin'?” Augie appealed to Bitsy with such a hopeful face that she laughed and reached over to pat his cheek.

“You're just a kid in big boots. We can have the gifts now, if you want.”

They took their dishes to the kitchen then slipped into the Moores' sitting room. Bitsy guarded their private quarters closer than she did her purse. Company was generally entertained in the public dining room. The sitting room remained a place where they could retreat from the turmoil of the business.

Augie had brought in a scraggly little fir tree early in December. Though Bitsy had scoffed at it, by nightfall, she'd clothed it with strings of popcorn and a few bits and baubles. Goldie had come home from work the next day with a dozen shimmery gold glass balls the size of plums, and Vashti had strung a garland of dried cranberries. The little tree stood in splendor now, with several small packages resting at its base. Each of the residents had stolen in sometime during the morning to add their gifts to the pile.

They took their time opening them, lingering to look and exclaim over each item as it was unwrapped. Vashti felt the presents she'd chosen went over well. Goldie put on her silver cross pendant
at once, thanking Vashti prettily. Bitsy and Augie declared it was a right pretty necklace and suited her well. Bitsy's face flushed with pleasure when she opened a package of cosmetics that Vashti had asked Goldie to help her select at the emporium—hand cream, face cream, and two shades of rouge.

“There, now, you knew I was getting low, didn't you?” Bitsy opened the little pot of scarlet rouge. “What a pretty color.”

Buying cosmetics had long been an expenditure for business in Bitsy's life, but her lower income for the past six months had made them a splurge. Vashti was satisfied that she'd chosen something Bitsy would appreciate.

“Miz Adams has ordered in some pretty new colors of lip rouge,” Goldie said. “That ‘poppy petals' is my favorite.”

In the past, Vashti had given Augie a bag of penny candy for Christmas, but this year was different. He and Bitsy were married now, and they'd unofficially claimed Vashti as part of their family. She'd felt something more consequential was indicated, and after a great deal of thought and observation in the kitchen, she'd made her selection.