Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at him. “So we can start over?”
“How about after we eat? I’m starved,” he said and smiled.
“I don’t know, that may be too late,” she teased and started for the tables.
“Darn pushy women,” Blake laughed as he ran up to her.
******
Everyone was seated at the tables as Father Grimm gave a moving blessing from the porch of the hotel, after which Ian MacIntyre came out in his full Scottish regalia complete with kilt and uniform from his days serving the Blackwatch in Scotland. He wore a tartan sash of his family and a highly polished set of bagpipes under his arm. Blake was impressed at the magnificent form before him. “I promise to be keepin’ this short, for if I play too long a riot will be formin’.” He inflated the pipes and began to play a lively tune from his homeland. The people at the tables clapped in time and seemed to enjoy it very much. Blake almost hated him for being able to play so well. When that was over he played a beautiful rendition of “Amazing Grace” bringing it to a dramatic end. Everyone clapped and whistled as he took a deep bow. Standing up again he shouted, “Let us eat.”
No one seemed to notice the figure standing in the window of the second floor of hotel. Tom MacIntyre stood leaning against the sash slowly bringing the bottle of whiskey to his lips and muttered, “This time next year, it’ll all be mine.”
When dinner was over the women quickly cleared the tables and hurried home to change for the upcoming dance. The men broke down the tables and cleared the street. They stood in the shade sipping whiskey and smoking cigars while the women got ready. Blake stood with Josh Dooley, Mike Ventosa, the sheriff, Joe Bergman and Caleb, they laughed and told stories, but mostly praised Caleb on his riding.
Josh checked his watch and said, “Well boys, I guess we should go escort our women to the dance, they’re probably wondering where we are.”
The only one left standing was sheriff Johansson who said something about being tied to no one.
Blake and Caleb were waiting outside the café when they saw Percival escorting Michelle down the street like he was carrying a hundred eggs. “Evening Big Man, Michelle,” Blake called out, “everything all right?”
Percival looked at Michelle with hopeful eyes and she said, “Go ahead, they’re going to know soon enough.”
“I’m going to be a Papa!” he blurted out barely able to contain himself.
Blake and Caleb rushed over and shook his hand. “Congratulations, that’s great news!” Blake said excited.
“G-good f-for y-you P-Percy,” Caleb said grinning.
Percival reached out to grab him but Michelle said, “Please don’t, honey, he’s dressed so nice.”
Big Man gave Caleb a friendly look and tousled his hair. “Well, all right, but I owe you one.” He took Michelle gently again, “Tell me if I’m walkin’ too fast.”
“Good Lord,” she huffed, “he thinks I turned to glass.”
Just after they left, the door to the café opened and Bonnie and Chrissy came out. Bonnie was wearing a dark blue dress that fit her perfectly and her hair was pulled back and in curls. She smiled at Caleb who was speechless. She walked over to him and gave a little push on his shoulder. “Well say something,” she said.
Caleb’s jaw worked but nothing came out for a second, then finally he managed a, “W-w-w-ow.”
Bonnie giggled and took his arm. “C’mon you silver tongued devil,” and they headed for the dance.
Blake had seen Chrissy dressed nice for church and he always admired her but tonight she was a true sight to behold. Her lavender dress brought out every beautiful feature she had. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and was pulled back to frame her face, exposing her bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks. The dress fit her like a glove accentuating curves and had a neckline that dipped low enough to show her cleavage while being tasteful. “Well, say something,” she said.
Blake turned his head and made sure Caleb was out of earshot and then said, “W-w-w-wow.”
“Very original,” she said taking his arm.
“I like to stick with the classics.” Blake chuckled.
******
The dance commenced as darkness fell and torches were lit around the dance floor. The band played song after song and people crowded the floor for each one. Blake couldn’t help but notice every time he glanced at Ian MacIntyre he was looking at Chrissy. Even when they danced his eyes followed her. At one point during a slower waltz Blake saw him approaching them. When he spun Chrissy away he felt a tap on his shoulder and found Ian standing there. “I would be likin’ to cut in with the lady’s permission,” he said gentlemanly. Blake turned his face to Chrissy’s and she nodded it would be all right. He stepped to the side and left the floor. Ian stepped in and turned Chrissy to the far edge of the floor where it would hard for Blake to see. “I dinnae think I would get a chance to dance with you, m’lady.”
“I did arrive with Mr. Thorton,” Chrissy replied.
“I have heard that you were not pleased with his company.”
“We had a misunderstanding before, but that is forgotten.”
“Tis a tragedy for me then, though you never favored my intentions.”
“I would like to go now,” she said trying to pull away.
He held her firmly and set his jaw. “Surely you won’t be denying me the last of this dance, would you?”
“You’re hurting me, please let go,” she pleaded.
Suddenly there was disturbance at the other side of the floor, people stopped dancing and watched and Chrissy took the opportunity to pull away. She dashed across the dance floor toward Blake with Ian following behind. When they got there they found Tom holding Bonnie tightly swinging her around the dance floor. She was crying, trying desperately to get away. Tom had her in a viselike grip and showed no signs of letting go. Several men were closing in to stop him when he pulled a pistol and aimed it at them. The music stopped. But Tom kept going spinning around like a broken top.
“Thomas,” Ian bellowed, “stop this right now!”
Another scuffle broke out just off the dance floor as Blake struck Troy in the jaw. He had Caleb in a bear hug and was laughing while watching Tom’s antics. He collapsed out cold and Caleb ran for the dance floor.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Tom said drunkenly, “I’m almost done with her.”
“You unhand her NOW!” Ian bellowed again.
Tom stopped dancing and swung the pistol at his father. “You ain’t bossin’ me no more.”
Ian’s voice changed to a low growl, “I’ll not be havin …” he stopped when Les Palmer leveled his pistol at him.
“That’s far enough, he ain’t hurtin’ no one,” Les said calmly.
Iver Johansson pressed the barrel of his colt against the base of Les’s neck, “Put it down boy, I can’t miss at this range.”
Les smiled and eased the hammer down slowly and let it fall to the ground. “You boys sure get riled around here.”
Ian turned his attention back to Tom. “Give over the pistol, Tom, and be done with this, he said calmly.
“Why should I, you hate me,” he shouted.
“No, son, you’re a wee bit drunk, and your thinkin’ is nigh too straight,” Ian said closing the gap; he noticed Tom hadn’t cocked his pistol.
“I ain’t living in your shadow no more,” Tom spouted. He closed his eyes hard, trying to keep the emotion in. That’s when Ian seized the opportunity to grab the gun and backhanded his son. Tom hit the floor, out cold.
“Lock him in the jail an’ keep him there ‘til he sobers up,” Ian ordered Johansson throwing him Tom’s pistol.
“I’m keepin’ him three days, with a fine to be paid for disturbin’ the peace,” Johansson growled.
Ian reached in his pocket and handed the sheriff a wad of bills. “Three days then and here be the fine.” Ian reached out and grabbed Les by the shirtfront. “And you boyo,
point a pistol at me again and you’ll be searchin’ for your head.” He drew back a massive fist and cold cocked him. Ian then turned and walked off the dance floor with his head held high. As he strode to his carriage his two daughters fell in behind him, their heads hung low.
Iver Johansson bent over and unbuckled the three unconscious men’s gun belts and grabbed a bucket of water that was used to put out the torches. Splashing water in each one of their faces, they all came around sputtering and gasping for air. “I need some men to give me a hand escorting this trash to the jail,” he said in a loud voice.
Blake was the first to step up. “See to Bonnie,” he said to Chrissy. “I’ll stop by and check on her.” Chrissy nodded her head and helped a very shaken Bonnie off the floor. Caleb was there with his arm around her apologizing for not stopping Tom. Blake turned to the disoriented Tom and yanked him to his feet. “You’re pretty tough with a little girl,” he snarled. “How are you when it’s a man set on beating your ass?”
“Let me go and you’ll find out, old man,” Tom grimaced as Blake pinned his arm behind his back.
“When you get out of jail, come see me, sonny boy,” Blake growled as he marched Tom to the jail. Mike Ventosa had Les in a similar hold as did Josh Dooley with Troy.
Johansson picked up the gun belts and threw them over his shoulder. “Don’t let this ruin your good time, folks. There’s fireworks comin’ up,” he called in a loud voice. “Hey, fiddler, how about a tune?”
The band complied with his wishes but their heart wasn’t in it and only a few people danced. By the time the sheriff got the three men locked up the fireworks had begun and the crowd turned more festive. Blake left the jail and went to the café. Inside he found Caleb and Bonnie along with Chrissy pouring coffee for some of the concerned townsfolk. Josh and Terry, Percival and Michelle, Sadie, Hap, Avery, Joe and even Dan LaClare sat talking quietly among themselves.
Blake smiled at them and walked over to Chrissy. “How is she?”
Chrissy bit her lip and said, “Pretty shaken up, but it helps knowing all these people are behind her. She won’t let Caleb leave her side.”
“Poor kid,” Blake said.
“What’s going to happen to Tom?”
“Not much unfortunately. He’ll cool his heels for a few days in jail, but he’ll get out and I don’t think this is over yet. I guess we keep a close eye on her, there’s no telling what he’ll do next,” Blake said quietly. “Why don’t you take her to her room while I talk to these people?”
Chrissy smiled and patted his hand. “Bonnie, why don’t we go upstairs and get some rest?” She went over and stroked her hair. “Things will look better in the morning.” Bonnie looked up tearfully and shook her head. After giving Caleb a tight hug she went with Chrissy up the stairs.
When he heard the door close, Blake turned to Caleb, “Go on home, son, you can see her tomorrow.” Caleb had a hard look on his face and looked like he wanted to say something but left quietly, his hat in his hand.
When Blake turned around everyone had stopped talking and were looking at him. “What happens now?” Josh said.
Blake sat on one of the stools at the counter and set his hat down. “Well,” he began. “Hopefully the sheriff keeps him locked up for three days. After that it’s anybody’s guess. Personally, I don’t think it’s over, I think Tom has an ax to grind and will be looking for revenge.”
“We’re the ones who should be lookin’,” Avery said angrily.
“Not the way he sees it. He’s lost just about everything he had and he feels slighted,” Blake countered. “All we can do is keep an eye on him when he gets out. Follow him and if he starts something, call for help. Also, I don’t think Bonnie should ever be alone.”
“We’ll all help,” Terry said and the others agreed.
“One more thing,” Blake added. “Those three characters that he’s been hanging around with are trouble, too. Don’t be a hero and go it alone.”
Chrissy came down the stairs and said, “She’s resting now, thank you all for coming.”
Percival rose to his feet. “Don’t you be worryin’ none. We’ll make sure nothin’ happens to her,” he said resolutely. “Now I think I should be getting’ the miss’s home. She’s in a delicate way.”
“Lordy,” Michelle rolled her eyes, “I’m pregnant, not dying.”
The room burst into excitement as they congratulated the couple on their good news. Blake leaned against the counter and reveled as he watched the men shake Big Man’s hand and slap him on the back. The women looked like hens as they offered help and advice to Michelle. After the evening they had, a little good news went a long way. They all filed out the door chatting among each other and Chrissy gently held Blake’s arm preventing him from going. “May I have a word?” she asked.
“Certainly,” he said closing the door.
“I hope you’re not mad at me for dancing with Ian MacIntyre tonight,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t want to be rude.”
Blake smiled. “Can’t say I liked it much, but no harm done.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Blake squinted his eyes a little. “I never took my eyes off you until the trouble started, but it looked like you wanted to get away and he wouldn’t let you go. Did he get out of line?”
Chrissy hesitated and then said, “Maybe a little, but when Tom started his nonsense, he stopped.”
Blake searched her face to see if she was holding something back. “I think he’s as much trouble as his son. You’ll let me know if he is a bother.”
“I will, I promise.” She reached up and gently placed her arms around his neck. “You’re a good man Blake Thorton,” then she kissed him tenderly on the lips.
When the kiss ended they hugged for a moment and Blake reached for his hat, placing it on his head he said, “Good night, Mrs. O’Bryan,” and opened the door.
“Good night, Blake,” she replied sweetly.
Chapter 18
The sheriff had a tough time holding the men for the three days, not because of them but because of the mayor’s insistence that they had paid for their crimes and should be let go sooner. Out of spite, Johansson held them until the morning of the fourth day. He unlocked the cells and stepped back allowing the men to enter the office. He took their gun belts out of a drawer and threw them on his desk. “You boys ain’t got no friends in this town, so I suggest you gather your things and vamoose.”
“I’ll leave when it suits me,” Tom said, spinning the cylinder of his pistol and shoving it in his holster.
“Cause any trouble, and I’ll pepper your ass with buckshot,” the sheriff shot back.
“You’re welcome to try,” Tom sniped clamping his hat firmly on his head. “Let’s go, boys.” All three of them walked out into the bright sunshine.
Mike Ventosa was sitting in a chair on the porch of the jail with his feet on the rail. After the three men left, Johansson walked out and watched them. “Follow them and make sure they stay out of trouble,” he said to Mike.
“How long?” Mike asked standing and adjusting his hat.
“See if they leave town and if they do, which way they go.”
“You got it, Boss,” Mike said as he walked off the porch.
He followed them to the hotel and watched them go to their rooms, collect their things along with Jimmy Rocco, pay their bill and walk down to the livery. They saddled their horses and rode at a high gallop east out of town.
Satisfied, Mike headed back for the jail. He walked in and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Well that didn’t take long,” the sheriff said, “what happened?”
Mike blew on his coffee and sat down. “Not much really, they got their bedrolls and lit a shuck out of town to the east.”
“Well it don’t sound like he’s going back to his Pappy’s,” Johansson said sucking his teeth. “We’ll double the patrols for a while.”
“Sounds good,” Mike said.
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br /> ******
That night Blake was working in the forge to fill an important order for a customer. He insisted that Caleb stay home to study and brought some fried chicken with him for dinner. Darkness fell as he worked. Concentrating on finishing and getting home, he didn’t see the four figures creep up to the livery and waylay Joe Bergman on the back of his head. A shadowy figure kept in the dark as he worked his way toward the front door of the forge. The mysterious man placed a hand over his mouth and yelled, “Fire in the livery!” By doing that it made it sound far away. Blake snapped his head around and threw the hot metal in the slack tub and ran for the door. As he entered the livery he saw Joe lying face first on the ground. Suddenly, fireworks erupted in his head as a pistol barrel hit him from behind. Falling to his knees dazed, he was greeted by several pairs of boots lashing out at him. Blake was a strong man in good condition but the constant pounding was starting to take its toll and he could feel himself slipping away. He thought he heard a rebel yell and a loud crash but he couldn’t be sure. As the pounding continued he could see Caleb’s dog Satan sneaking into the barn. As sudden as it began the kicking stopped and one of the men yelled, “God almighty,” and gagged. The rest of the men started choking and making retching sounds. “I can’t stand it,” one yelled and ran for the door. Another coughed and said, “C’mon, he’s done.” The men clamored for the door and Blake heard horses galloping away. In spite of the pain racking his body he smiled. “Saved by a dog’s fart,” he muttered and his world went dark.
******
Two days later Blake dreamt he was in a long tunnel. He could see the end but it was such an effort to move. He stumbled and clawed his way toward the opening. His forehead was cool and wet and it felt like a spider was crawling across his ribs. He tried to open his eyes but it seemed only one would work and that was sticky and blurry. He blinked a couple times and he saw Chrissy sitting in a chair next to him slowly tracing the outline of his tattoos on his exposed chest with her finger. “That kinda tickles,” he said weakly.
She stopped and looked up quickly, gently stroking his face, tears flowing down her cheeks. “It took you long enough to come back,” she smiled.
The Blacksmith Page 22
