******
It was about quarter past four when a very excited Caleb ran around the corner carrying some books. There was a scared look on his face and when he got to Blake all he could do was point back up the street. Caleb could not get out any words and was becoming more and more agitated.
“What’s the matter son?” Blake said calmly. Caleb’s jaw worked frantically but still there were no words. “Stop!” Blake yelled firmly and grabbed his shoulders. That seemed to settle him down a little. “Now, tell me what’s going on, slowly.”
Caleb drew a deep breath and concentrated on every word. “Th-th-the b-bb-big m-man is p-p-pissed,” he said pointing up the street.
Blake didn’t have to wonder who he was talking about because the big lummox was making his presence known. “Where is that yellow bellied coward?!” roared the big man from around the corner.
Blake pursed his lips and asked Caleb, “The big guy from the saloon?” Caleb nodded affirmatively. Blake reached behind him and picked up a large set of tongs. “Well, shit, this has got to stop,” he muttered.
The big man turned the corner being followed by several of the townsfolk. The area around his eyes was turning purple from being hit on the head twice and the welt on his forehead gave him a ferocious appearance. Both ham sized fists were clenched as he stomped toward Blake. “I’ve come to settle accounts,” he snarled.
“You, sir, are a hard man to keep down,” Blake said smiling.
He was directly in front of Blake when he stopped and stood glaring at him. “Damn right I am.” Blake could feel his hot breath on top of his head.
“Didn’t I already whup you twice?” Blake asked.
“Yeah, and you cheated both times, but now you ain’t got nowhere to hide,” he growled.
“You really don’t expect me to fight you fair, do you? You’re too big for that, you’d tear me apart.”
“Just like I’m gonna do now.”
“I have a better idea.”
Taken a little off guard the big man said, “What?”
“I don’t want to be mangled by you, and you don’t want any more knots on your head. So why don’t we call it a draw and become friends?”
“Don’t need no friends, an’ what makes you think you can beat me again?” the big man said angrily.
“Because I did twice without breaking a sweat,” Blake said smiling. He could see the wheels turning in the big man’s head. The anger slowly left his eyes as he thought about what Blake said.
“You ain’t never gonna fight me fair are ya?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Well, I ain’t never had me a friend before, and you proved you can whup me, I’m guessin’ I can give it try.”
“Good,” Blake sighed in relief. “Put it there,” and held out his hand.
The big man took Blake’s hand and shook it. Blake’s hand nearly disappeared in his.
“What’s your name?” Blake asked.
“Percival Feathers,” he said. Someone in the crowd in back of him snickered. Percival turned slowly and gave them a hard look. “It was my Pappy’s name and he was right proud of it.”
Blake tried to keep from smirking. “How about I call you Big Man, it seems to suit you better.”
“Kinda like that,” he smiled. “Ya think I could talk to you about somethin’ for a minute?”
“You bet, Big Man.”
Big Man turned to the crowd of onlookers and growled, “The rest of you can piss off.” Without a moment’s hesitation they found better places to be. He and Blake talked for about five minutes, then they shook hands again and Big Man lumbered off.
Joe was leaning on a hitching rail nearby laughing and shaking his head. Blake strolled over to him, “What’s up, Joe?”
“I was just wonderin’ why you don’t sound like a church bell when you walk, with those big brass balls you got swinging,” he said chuckling.
“Jesus, I almost soiled my pants when I saw him coming,” Blake laughed.
“What’d he want to talk about?” Joe said wiping a tear from his eye.
“I had to promise him something.”
“I’d keep it.”
“I intend to,” said Blake. “I intend to.”
Chapter 10
The next morning found Blake and Caleb waiting in the forge for their lumber to be delivered. When they got home the previous night, Sam was already working on Sadie’s room and told them he would be by with the lumber first thing in the morning. Sadie was very happy with her room and talked all through supper how she couldn’t wait to have a warm place to sleep this winter. She asked Blake if it would all right if Sam’s wife and two children could stop by and see it. Blake suggested that if the weather was good they should all have dinner together tomorrow because he would like to meet them. She was hesitant at first because usually colored and white folks don’t eat together but when Blake explained that he would damn well eat with whoever he pleased, she relented and promised a special meal.
At the blacksmith shop they only waited a few minutes when Sam showed up driving a wagonload of lumber.
“Morning, Sam,” Blake said shaking his hand. “That looks like some fine wood you got there.”
“Yes suh,” he said. “You wants it right here?”
“Yup, that’s fine,” Blake said putting on his gloves. The three of them unloaded and separated the lumber into different stacks according what it was used for. “So are you bringing the family over for supper tonight?” Blake asked.
“Sho’ nuff, the Mrs. was cookin’ up a storm before I left. I has me a fiddle ifn’ yo’ want me to bring it. Womenfolk likes my playin’.”
“Sounds real good. We’ll see you tonight then.”
“Sho nuff,” Sam said, touching the brim of his hat. He slapped the reins and was gone.
Blake and Caleb set to work getting the main beam ready. Blake measured and re-measured all the cuts so there were no mistakes and they drilled and, using oak pins, put the main support together on the ground inside the forge. Caleb tried to pick up the ‘U’ support to see how heavy it was. “H-how w-we going t-to lift t this?” he asked.
“The same way you lift a five-hundred-pound yardarm up a fifty-foot mast,” Blake said as he laid out the ropes and pulleys. He secured them on various points on the walls and took the slack out of the ropes. Caleb looked doubtful as they began pulling on the ropes until it started to rise and fell solidly into place. Then they took off all the ropes and secured them across the building to the opposite walls. Blake explained that when the main beam in the roof broke the roof sagged and pushed the walls out a little. “This will keep the whole thing from crashing down on us when we jack up the roof, hopefully,” he said. Once again Caleb had a doubtful look in his eyes.
Sadie brought lunch but didn’t stay because she had a lot of work to do to get ready for supper. As she was leaving Blake asked, “You’re not going to too much trouble are you?”
“Lets me be worryin’ ‘bout that,” she chided. “Ah said ah was makin’ somethin’ special and I is.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Blake said biting into his sandwich.
Blake and Caleb worked on bracing for the roof until it was time for Caleb to go to the café for school. Blake spent the rest of the time calculating how much the roof would have to be jacked up to make it straight again. Unfortunately, none of the jacks would do it in one shot, so he would have to jack it up in stages.
Blake was deep in thought when Caleb returned. “H-how are y-you going t-to do this?” he asked Blake.
Blake wrinkled his brow and scratched his head, “Like my father always said, I’m going to have to cogitate on it some.”
“W-what’s c-c-cogitate?” Caleb asked confused.
“It means think on it, it’s going to be tricky but I think it’s doable,” Blake said smiling. “Why don’t we head home and get cleaned up for supper. Maybe it will be clearer in the morning.”
; When they arrived at their house, Sadie had already set up a table in the backyard and brought out chairs. Sam’s family was there and she introduced Marie and the children to them. Marie was very pretty; she had long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, large soft brown eyes and a charming smile. Her daughter, Rachel, was about four years old and Blake could tell that she would equal her mother’s beauty when she got older. Little Sam was two, and had a stocky build; he, too, was going to be handsome and strong.
The aroma wafting from the house was incredible, fried chicken and a heap of golden biscuits with three different vegetables. There were fresh cut flowers on the table, with what Blake assumed was the Major’s good china dishes. Caleb’s dog, Satan, came trotting into the yard and the kids immediately took to him, chasing him around and giggling as he licked their faces.
The whole scene made Blake smile and gave him a long forgotten feeling of family and peace. He and Caleb went into the house to wash and change their clothes. When they came back outside, Sam had arrived carrying his fiddle. The kids ran up to him and hugged his legs, begging him to play them a tune. He obliged with a lively song that made them dance and laugh. When he finished, they sat down and joined hands. Blake asked Sadie to say grace because it was her family. Blake watched Caleb, it was apparent that this was all new to him and he was unsure how to act. Blake caught his eye and gave him a wink relaxing him a little. As soon as prayers were over they all dug in, enjoying the feast, laughing and telling stories the whole time. Just when Blake figured he couldn’t eat another bite, Sadie and Marie brought out a bubbling peach cobbler and a chocolate cake. Even Caleb, who never seemed to get enough to eat, was slowing down but managed to finish off large pieces of both desserts. The women started clearing the table and Sam picked up his fiddle and played some more, he even knew a sea chantey that Blake recognized from when he was on board ships. When Sam played a waltz, Blake asked Sadie to dance while Marie coaxed a clumsy Caleb into trying.
Marie finished dancing with him, sat down at the table near Blake and watched Sadie take a turn dancing with Caleb. The two children were fascinated with Blake and crawled up on his lap. “You have yourself a fine family, Marie,” he said.
“Thank you, suh. I try hard, but they are troublesome. Rachel bears constant watching, and Lil’ Sam gets into everything.”
“That would be their job,” Blake smiled as he tickled Rachel, making her giggle. “You should be right proud of Sam, too. He’s doing a fine job on his aunt’s room.”
“Oh, he is,” she replied giving Sam and the children a loving look. “I’s can’t tell you how much the money you is givin’ Sam helps. Times is hard, but he always keeps food on the table. He helps with our babies, too.”
“I can tell,” Blake smiled. “Children this fine don’t get that way by accident. But it has been my experience that manners are taught by the mother. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, and bless your heart, Mr. Thorton, suh.” Marie smiled and reached over and tickled Lil’ Sam on the cheek.
As the sun was setting and the night began to cool down, Sam and Marie said their good-byes and each took a sleeping child off Blake’s lap. Blake stood and stretched and made his way to the rocking chair on the front porch with a cigar.
“I wants to thanks you for havin’ my family fo’ supper,” Sadie said sitting in the other chair, “you is a blessin’ fo’ shu’.”
“It was my pleasure. You have a real nice family and I can’t remember when I’ve had a better time,” Blake said blowing smoke into the yard. “What’s Caleb up to?”
“He’s workin’ on somethin’ Miss Bonnie tol’ him to do. Practicin’ letters an’ numbers an’ such. Yo’ is changin’ his life fo’ sho’.”
Flicking an ash over the rail Blake said, “He’s worth it.”
“Well I is plumb tuckered out, I’ll think I is going to turn in,” she said. “If’n yo’ don’t need me no mo’.”
“No ma’am, good night, and that was the best fried chicken I ever ate.”
“Learned how from a Creole woman on the plantation, Lawd she was some cook, sho’ nuff’,” Sadie replied going in the house, “Good night, suh.”
Blake leaned back and closed his eyes listening to the crickets when the sound of three horses walking up the street caught his attention. It was pretty dark but he could make out three riders making their way to the saloon.
******
“Can’t wait to get me a drink, Huxley. You think they got women there?” one of them said in a gravelly voice.
The name sounded familiar to Blake, he knew a man named Huxley back in the war but that was a long time ago and what were the chances it was the same man. Besides, he always rode with a man named Luther Bent and they were nothing but trouble.
“I told you two drinks and no dallying with the doves,” the man warned. “You got that, Bent?”
“Aw, shit,” Blake muttered to himself.
Blake stood and went inside. He took his gun off the coatstand by the door and buckled it on. Checking to make sure it was loaded he put on his hat and turned to the door. Caleb had been working on his homework and looked up.
“W-where ya going?” he asked.
“Out for a while,” Blake said.
“Is th-there t-ttrouble?”
Blake realized Caleb had seen him put on his gun, which he hadn’t worn much lately. He smiled at Caleb. “Naw, just put this on out of habit,” he said, patting the handle of his revolver. “You get back to work and make Bonnie proud.”
“I-I will,” Caleb replied smiling back.
Blake left the house and started walking toward the saloon. Staying in the shadows behind the three riders he quickly caught up to them. He noticed how they all three took a long glance at the bank when they rode by. “What are you up to, boys?” Blake whispered to himself. The trio stopped at the hitching rail in front of the saloon as Blake slipped into a shadow nearby and listened.
“Town is pretty quiet. Maybe we can do this without him,” Bent said.
Huxley shot him a harsh look. “When you’re the boss, you can call it, until then keep your mouth shut.” Bent said something under his breath that Blake couldn’t hear. “Two drinks and no trouble, we’re just here to find out what kind of lawdog we’re dealing with.”
The third man Blake didn’t recognize said in a low voice, “Once I put a bullet in him, he won’t be no trouble.”
“You shoot a lawman and we’ll have every starpacker in a hundred miles down on us. We wait for Pudney to show and do this so nobody gets hurt. Got it?” Huxley hissed.
“When the hell is he comin’? I’m tired of sleepin’ on the trail,” carped Bent.
“Two, maybe three days,” Huxley whispered. “We don’t make a move without him.”
“Fine,” grumbled the other man. “But I’m gettin’ me a bottle for camp, I hates waitin’.”
The three of them made their way up the steps and through the batwings of the saloon.
Blake wished he could get closer but that would risk Huxley recognizing him. He looked around and spotted Dan LaClare walking out of the hotel toward the Trail’s End.
When he got close enough, Blake whispered, “Pssst, Dan, come here.”
Dan looked down the alley and Blake stepped out just enough for him to see him. “That you, Blake,” he drawled quietly. “Why may I ask are you lurking in the shadows?”
Blake kept his voice low. “Three men just went into the saloon. I know two of them and they are bad to be sure. Go in there and see if you can find out what they are up to.”
Dan turned to the saloon and squinted at the doors, “And why on earth would I do that?”
“Because you’re bored and could use some excitement.”
“Truer words were never spoken, but it is hazardous to meddle in another man’s affairs,” Dan whispered flatly.
“What if told you you could be a hero?”
“That is a fin
e epitaph for my gravestone.”
“Look, if you don’t help me there won’t be any money for you to fleece people out of at cards.”
“Good heavens,” Dan said, “that would be a tragedy. What do you believe are their intentions?”
“Unless I miss my guess, they’re going to rob the bank.”
“Scoundrels,” Dan smiled. “Of course, if I meet with an untimely end, I will be very annoyed with you.”
“I’ll make sure you get a real nice marker in the cemetery,” Blake said with a smart ass smile.
“Hmmm…lovely.” Dan sauntered away and entered the saloon.
Blake sat on a wooden crate and waited. Half an hour later Huxley and the other two left the saloon. Bent put two bottles of rotgut in his saddlebags and got mounted. They rode quietly back out of town the way they came in. Blake watched them until they disappeared and turned toward the doors. Dan was standing outside the batwings lighting a cheroot. Blake climbed the stairs and they both went in. He ordered two whiskeys and gave one to Dan.
“Rather an unsociable lot,” Dan said, sipping his drink.
“So you didn’t hear much?” Blake asked.
“Sometimes it is not what a man says as much as what he doesn’t say,” Dan mused, as he pointed at his glass for the bartender to refill. When that was done, he continued, “They weren’t forthcoming with last names, but I believe there was a Pete, Luther and Frank. Sound familiar?”
“Pete Huxley and Luther Bent are. I don’t know Frank.”
“They made some inquiries about the local law enforcement, but were rather vague as to why.”
“Who is the sheriff, anyway?” Blake asked.
The Blacksmith Page 11
