The Blacksmith

by Bryan A. Salisbury

  “Can I go back and see him?” Blake asked.

  “Oh please do, he’ll be happy to see you, just not too long; he still needs plenty of rest.”

  Blake made his way to the back where he found Mike sitting up in bed. “You look like a fella I knew from India with your head wrapped up like that,” Blake teased.

  “Hey, Blake,” Mike smiled, “any chance you can get me out of here? I’m about ready to pick the flowers off this here wallpaper.”

  “Why don’t you pick a nice bunch for that nurse?” Blake laughed.

  “She’s the only reason I ain’t lit a shuck. I like the scenery.”

  “Sorry to say, pard, she might be right about taking your time getting out of here. Can I get you something to do?” asked Blake.

  “Naw, Johansson was kind enough to bring a fat stack of paperwork to wade through,” he said pointing at a pile of wanted posters. “He said he wouldn’t feel right about payin’ me if I didn’t do some kinda work.”

  “He is one generous son-of-a-gun, ain’t he?” laughed Blake.

  “Word is you saved his bacon with a shot from the church steeple using the Padre’s rifle.”

  “Yeah, I was working on the church bell and saw Wilson trying to escape. Guess I was in the right place at the right time. I got lucky.”

  “You sure were,” Mike laughed. “Heard it took you two shots.”

  Blake smiled and shook his head. “Kiss my ass.” They both laughed and shook hands.

  ******

  That day Percival had spent most of the morning cleaning himself up. He took a bath, got a shave and a haircut. He put on a new pair of pants, a clean shirt and even cleaned the dirt from his boots. Stopping by Dooley’s store he bought a small bouquet of flowers, drew a deep breath and headed for the Trail’s End. The saloon was about half full by the time he got there, mostly cowpunchers playing cards and sipping beer. The entire room stopped what they were doing and stared at him as he walked through the batwing doors. He cleared his throat and said in load clear voice, “I am here to call on Miss Lipton.”

  The men started looking around and asking each other if they knew a Miss Lipton. Michelle was at the top of the staircase and started down, followed by a cowboy pulling on his vest. She stopped for a second and swallowed hard. “Percival?”

  Big Man saw her and smiled broadly. “Yes ma’am, may I have a minute?”

  Slightly embarrassed, she continued down while looking around at the unbelieving stares. She came to a stop in front of the huge man. “Perhaps we can go somewhere else to talk,” she said sweetly.

  The Big Man’s face became very firm. “No ma’am, now I know who you are, what you does for a living, and that don’t make no difference to me. I want all these here fellas to know that I intend to make you my wife.” Then, suddenly he dropped to one knee. “That is if you want to.”

  She took the flowers he was holding out and placed her hand over her mouth, tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded her head yes.

  Percival looked shocked. “Really? Ya mean it?” She nodded her head harder and hugged him tightly. He stood up picking her up as he went and hugged her back.

  “I got her all loosened up fer your wedding night,” yelled the cowboy who followed her down the stairs and the room erupted in laughter. “Hey, I helped, too!” yelled another.

  Big Man slowly set Michelle down and with murder in his eyes he reached for the offending cowboy. Closing his massive hand around his throat he lifted him off the wood floor. The cowboy tried to reach for his pistol and Percival grabbed his wrist hard enough to hear the bones crack. Michelle pulled on his arm and screamed, “Percival, no!!!”

  Iver Johansson had been making his rounds in the town and saw the Big Man coming out of Dooley’s store with flowers in his hand. The sheriff watched him as he made his way to the saloon. “What is that big lunkhead up to now?” he asked himself. Sensing there was going to be trouble, he started toward the Trail’s End. He stood outside the batwings and listened, and when things seemed to be getting out of hand, Johansson pushed through the doors.

  A deafening blast filled the room from his Greener shotgun. The place went silent as the sheriff walked up to Big Man choking the cowboy. “Put him down, big fella,” as he eared back the hammer on the second barrel. Percival made no motion to drop him so the sheriff said louder, “Now.”

  “Please, Honey,” Michelle sobbed.

  Big Man turned his head and looked deeply into her wet, green eyes. He opened both hands and let the cowboy fall into a gasping, choking heap. Michelle wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

  “Now, I’m from Texas,” shouted the sheriff loud enough for all to hear, “and we are raised to treat our womenfolk kindly and any varmint that insults another man’s woman is due whatever punishment he is given, short of murder.”

  “He broke my arm,” cried the cowboy Percival manhandled.

  “You’re God damn lucky you didn’t get your fool head pinched off,” growled Johansson. “This here woman,” he continued, “has accepted this man’s proposal and is deserving of respect for changing her ways. If any man here finds that troublesome, he can drop his pistol and hash out his differences with my big friend one-on-one right now.” Johansson looked around the room. “Any takers?” No one moved a muscle, so he said, “I consider the matter closed.” Then he set his shotgun on his shoulder and turned to the Big Man and Michelle, “Let me be the first to congratulate you both on your upcoming nuptials.”

  ******

  The following day Percival and Michelle were married. Johansson convinced the circuit court judge to perform the ceremony and to stay another day because there was no need to try Wilson anymore. Because there was no courthouse in town yet, Chrissy closed the café and decorated it for the ceremony. She also made a large cake and other desserts for the people attending. There was Blake, Caleb, Sadie, and Dan LaClare, the bartender from the Trail’s End, two other doves who were friends to Michelle, Chrissy, Bonnie, Sheriff Johansson and even Mike Ventosa who was helped over by Anne. Even Caleb’s dog Satan lay by the front door happily munching on a ham bone supplied by Chrissy. He was not allowed in because everyone knew his reputation and did not care to upset him. After the marriage was over Percival and Michelle cut the cake and everyone sat around eating and laughing. As was the tradition, Michelle threw her bouquet over her shoulder and it was caught by Anne who blushed and smiled at Mike Ventosa who looked extremely uncomfortable.

  When it came time to leave they all stood outside and threw rice at the newlyweds, who were on their way to the hotel for the honeymoon.

  “C-c-congratulations, P-Percy,” Caleb said shaking his hand. Big Man hung onto Caleb’s hand and tossed him in the watering trough.

  The Sunday that followed found Blake on his way to the livery to take Bull for a ride. Caleb and Sadie had made a habit of attending church each week and left the house at the same time Blake did. It was a warm beautiful morning and he was looking forward to being alone to cogitate about his life. When he was just turning the corner a voice called out breaking his train of thought. “Mr. Thorton, may I speak to you a moment?” Blake turned and saw Chrissy looking prettier than he had ever seen her. She wore a bright blue dress that hugged her body in a way that made him swallow hard. The color of her dress brought out the blue in her eyes, and sparkled against her rosy cheeks. Bonnie was walking with her, dressed far plainer but her hair was pulled back to expose soft brown eyes. Though her scar was visible somehow it detracted little from her looks.

  Blake smiled and removed his hat. “What can I do for such a lovely pair of ladies this fine morning?” he said in overly dramatic voice.

  “I was hoping you would be in attendance at church this morning, so you could witness the marvelous job you did repairing the bell.” She was standing in front of him and he caught the faint smell of roses from the perfume she was wearing. He had had whiskey that was less intoxicating.

/>   He smiled and said, “I heard it the morning we fixed it and, besides, Caleb deserves the credit, it was his job after all.”

  “So I heard,” she smiled back. “But you played a small part and we would like to thank you, also.”

  “Well ma’am, my horse gets downright surly if I don’t take him out for a ride once a week and I hate to upset him. Perhaps another time.”

  Chrissy drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re not going to make this easy are you?” she said cocking her trademark eyebrow. “Mr. Thorton, Bonnie and I would like you to accompany us to the service this morning as our guest. I will explain to your horse, if need be, why you were late.”

  “Damn,” Blake thought, “she’s got me boxed in.” He didn’t mind going to church, he had been raised going to service with his family, but the years had weakened his faith and he didn’t know if he was ready to accept God back into his life. He tried one last thing. “I’m not dressed for church, ma’am.”

  “You look presentable enough,” she said firmly.

  He looked up at the sky and said, “Well, I don’t see any storm clouds, so I suppose I could, but if I hear thunder I’m gone.” Turning and holding out his elbow he said, “I would be pleased to accompany you.”

  Chrissy smiled so sweetly, Blake felt his knees almost buckle out from underneath him. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and they started for the church. As the three of them neared the church the bell rang out several times. People who did not know it had been fixed clapped and cheered. Caleb was standing with Sadie and saw them approaching, “H-hey B-B-lake” he called running up to them, “a-are y-y-you c-coming i-in?”

  Blake smiled and looked at Chrissy. “Wasn’t given much of a choice.”

  Caleb turned his attention to Bonnie. “Good morning, Miss Bonnie,” he said.

  “That reminds me, Bonnie,” Blake said. “It is truly amazing how much Caleb has learned with you teaching.”

  “He works very hard and is an excellent student,” she replied.

  Suddenly a loud booming voice distracted them. It was Percival and his new bride. “If I go in there the whole dad-blamed roof is gonna fall in,” he exclaimed.

  “No it won’t, honeybunch,” she pleaded. “Just give it a try, for me, please?”

  Blake escorted Chrissy over to the newlyweds. “How’s it going, Big Man?”

  “Blake, buddy, you has to help me. She’s forcin’ me to go in there and I’m afraid somethin’ bad’s gonna happen.”

  “I told him we are going to be respectable from here on out, and respectable people go to church,” Michelle stated with her hands on her hips.

  “Mrs. Chrissy ain’t forcin’ Blake none,” Percival said.

  Blake coughed and scratched his neck. “Well…I…”

  Chrissy chimed in, “I’m sure you love your wife and this is a small thing you can do for her. Jesus loves us all, Percival, you’ll be fine.”

  Sensing defeat he said in a low voice, “I reckon I can try.”

  “Thanks, honeybunch,” Michelle said hugging him tightly.

  “Just don’t sit under the steeple,” Blake said.

  “Why’s that?” asked Big Man.

  “That’s where the bell is and when the roof comes down, it might hurt.” Chrissy slipped her hand to the inside of his arm and pinched him.

  ******

  Father Grimm delivered a powerful sermon that day and struck many chords that Blake related to. The Padre had a way of delivering his message that had the people engrossed and captivated without the hellfire and brimstone that he was accustomed to as a child. Blake could see why he was well-liked. After the service the ladies of the parish laid out some baked goods and lemonade on tables under the trees next to the church. Chrissy stayed by his side most of the time as they talked and laughed with the rest of the congregation. The only time there was any tension was when Ian MacIntyre approached them, with his two daughters and Tom in tow.

  “Bonny job on the church bell,” he said to Blake with a broad smile. “I did not know you was a church goin’ man.”

  Tom was giving Blake a disapproving stare but Blake ignored it. “Well this fine lady convinced me to attend today,” Blake said sipping some lemonade.

  “Ah, tis true, you are an angel sent from heaven, ma’am,” Ian said gently picking up Chrissy’s hand and kissing it. He held her hand a little too long and an uncomfortable Chrissy pulled it away. “I myself have tried to gain the attentions of Mrs. O’Bryan, but alas, they have fallen on deaf ears.”

  “Work keeps me very busy,” she said in her customary cold tone. “Also, caring for Bonnie after her parent’s unfortunate accident.” She gave Tom a cold hard stare, to which he gave a slight, evil smile.

  “Twas a tragedy, tis true. How is the lass faring?” Ian asked.

  “It is a hard thing to recover from,” she replied flatly. “But Mr. Thorton has employed her as a teacher to help the young man who works for him. That seems to help a little.”

  “How is that stuttering nitwit doing anyway?” Tom asked.

  Ian shot Tom a menacing look over his shoulder but it did not compare to the one Blake was giving him. “He’s doing an excellent job. I’m very proud of all he has accomplished. I’d request you keep a civil tongue when you speak of him.”

  “Gentlemen,” Ian said holding up his hands. “Tis the Sabbath and it would be no time for harsh words. I am sure my son meant no harm to the lad. Would I be correct, son?” Ian asked in a firm tone of voice.

  Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, sure.”

  Ian turned back to Blake and smiled. “See there now, no harm done.”

  Blake could barely keep his anger in check. “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  “Then we’ll be going on our way,” Ian said ushering his children toward their carriage. “Good day to you both.”

  As they got in and Ian snapped the reins to get the horses moving, Chrissy said under her breath, “Asshole.”

  Blake burst out laughing. “Good heavens, Mrs. O’Bryan, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

  Chapter 14

  Later the next week, Blake and Caleb were making their way to the café for lunch. It had rained the night before, which was a welcome relief to the dry spell they had for a few weeks. It had settled the dust in town and the air was fresh and clean. Blake hadn’t talked to Chrissy since last Sunday and, it being Friday, he came up with an excuse to eat lunch in her restaurant. Little did he know the next sequence of events would change things forever in his and Caleb’s lives, if not the whole town’s.

  They were just about to enter the café when four riders came trotting into town headed for the saloon. One of the men seemed to be having a lot of trouble controlling a wild eyed red roan mare. He cursed at it and spurred it mercilessly only to make the mare more agitated. Finally in front of the saloon he lost his seat in the saddle and was sent flying into the rider beside him almost unseating him, also. The angry cowpuncher got to his feet and pulled his revolver from its holster and pointed it at the crazed animal.

  “As God is my witness, you worthless nag, I’m going to put a bullet in your sorry skull,” he yelled excitedly as he eared back the hammer.

  “Do it, Ike,” laughed on of his fellow riders. “I’m tired of you not gettin’ a handle on her.”

  “Take yer saddle off first. It’s a bitch doing it when they’re on the ground,” added another.

  “Good point,” Ike said, putting the gun back and jerked her head around so he could loosen the cinch straps. Pulling on the horse’s mouth as hard as he did spooked the horse even more and she lashed out with a hind leg and kicked him in the thigh. The kick didn’t break his leg but it hurt like hell and would leave a sizable bruise. “Ah, the hell with it,” he cried out and pulled his pistol again.

  When Blake saw them ride in, it was evident to him that the horse was in pain. Being a blacksmith in those days also meant you were a farri
er and dealt with shoeing horses on a daily basis. He could tell just by watching a horse walk how they needed to be shod, or if they had a lameness problem. Just by the way this horse crow hopped and danced there was no doubt it was hurting bad.

  “Hold on there a minute, mister,” Blake called out as he approached him.

  “What the hell does you want?” Ike said nastily.

  “I’ll buy that horse from you,” Blake said calmly.

  “This ornery piece of shit?” asked Ike still pointing the pistol at the mare.

  “Yup, I’ll give you twenty dollars.”

  “She just kicked me and that means she gets a bullet,” snarled Ike.

  “If you shoot her, then you’ll have to get rid of the carcass,” Blake pointed out. “And you’ll have twenty less dollars in your pocket.”

  “Why does you give a damn anyway?”

  “There are kids around that don’t need to see you shoot her, and I’m feeling generous.”

  “It’ll teach them life is hard,” Ike said earring back the hammer.

  “Fifty then,” Blake said. Ike paused and looked back at Blake. “Fifty will buy you whiskey, a few hands of poker and maybe a visit with one of the ladies in there.”

  One of Ike’s friends piped up, “Shit, mister I’ll sell you my horse, an’ he’s a good one.”

  “Nope, I want this one.” Blake took fifty dollars out his pocket and held it up. “You get to keep your tack, all I want is your rope so I can lead her back to the barn.”

  “All right,” said Ike putting away his pistol, “but you are a damn fool.”

  Blake looked at Caleb and said, “Go in the saloon and get me some paper and a pencil, will you?” Caleb hurried in the saloon and returned with paper. Blake started writing out the bill-of-sale.

  “What cha’ doin?” Ike asked.

  “Writing out a bill-of-sale,” Blake said, “keeps everybody honest.” He finished and handed it to Ike. “Here sign this.”