The Blacksmith's Bride (Brides 0f Brimstone Book 1)

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The Blacksmith's Bride (Brides 0f Brimstone Book 1) Page 1

by Laura Fletcher




  The Blacksmith’s Bride

  Brides of Brimstone – Book 1

  Laura Fletcher

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

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  © 2018 Laura Fletcher

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

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  Chapter 1

  Betsy Franklin’s heart skipped a beat. The mail coach careened around a corner and rumbled into the dusty streets of town. Brimstone! The very name sent shivers down Betsy’s spine.

  She couldn’t back down now, though. She traveled two weeks by train, followed by another four weeks in the mail coach, to get here. She looked forward to this day for so long. She exchanged letters with Jed Wilcox for almost a year. Now she was about to meet him for the first time.

  Would she like him as much in person as she did in their letters? Was she really going to marry a man she never met? She daydreamed over his daguerreotype every night when she drifted off to sleep. She could tell herself she was a romantic ninny to build up any feeling for a stranger, but it never did any good.

  She lived and breathed Jed Wilcox. She tore open every letter she received from him with shaking hands, and she counted down the days until she received the next one. Would this day turn out to be a crashing disappointment for both of them? She could only imagine he must be suffering the same nerves and misgivings.

  The coach rattled to a stop in front of the Brimstone Hotel. The town looked exactly like several dozen other Western towns she saw on the journey to Nebraska Territory. Dust billowed from every set of wagon wheels and horse’s hooves passing by. The sun baked down on the weathered board buildings along Main Street.

  The coach slowed to a stop. The Hotel’s front porch glided past Betsy’s window. Time slowed to a crawl. The next few seconds of her life unfolded in a surreal haze. The coach drew level with the porch, and Betsy’s window came to a halt right in front of a solitary man standing there.

  Betsy stared through the window, and he stared back at her. Their eyes met. She would recognize him anywhere. He looked exactly like his daguerreotype, except a vital spark flickered in his eyes and animated his strong features that didn’t show up in the likeness.

  His short black hair slicked down the sides of his head. A thick curved mustache hid his mouth. Piercing white-blue eyes glittered out of his face. He wore a black suit coat and clean black pants over his polished leather boots.

  Not a speck of grime marred his fingernails. The man knew how to clean himself up. No one would ever suspect he was a blacksmith. Only his powerful shoulders and thick arms under the coat gave him away.

  Betsy sat rooted to her seat. She couldn’t move. She could only stare into those eyes. The driver startled her by yanking the door open. “Brimstone, Ma’am.”

  Betsy flew into action. “Of course!” She gathered her handbag and climbed onto the porch.

  When she looked up again, she found Jed still staring at her. He didn’t move. For the second time, his startling bright eyes caught her in their hypnotic sway. She couldn’t look away. She could stare into those eyes forever. They looked straight to the bottom of her soul.

  The guard dropped her trunk to the ground from the coach roof. The thump startled Betsy out of her trance. She took a step forward and stuck out her hand. “Jed Wilcox, I presume. I’m Betsy Franklin.”

  Jed jumped. The spark of animation infected him, and he burst into life. He cracked a big grin that lit up his whole face, and his eyes sparkled even more. His big frame radiated magnetic vibrant energy. “I woulda recognized you anywhere. You look exactly like your picture.”

  He seized her hand. For a fraction of an instant, he crushed it in his powerful grip. The next moment, he softened. He sheltered her tiny hand in his muscular grasp.

  “Are you tired?” he asked. “You’ve had a long trip from Greenville, Mississippi.”

  Without waiting to be asked, he hopped off the porch, heaved her trunk over his shoulder, and dropped it into a wagon standing there. He picked it up like a feather.

  “I was tired in the coach,” Betsy told him, “but I’m not now. I’m very happy to be here. It’s everything I hoped it would be.”

  Jed stopped in front of her. Every time he looked at her, he saw so much more than anyone she ever met in her life. In the few seconds since she met him, she might have known him for years.

  He lowered his eyes once to survey her from top to toe. “You’re everything I hoped you would be, too. I’m thrilled.”

  His mustache did nothing to hide the excitement on his face. His cheeks glowed, and his lips twitched when he said those words. Betsy’s heart pounded against her ribs. “So am I.”

  He took a step closer and lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “If you…uh…I mean, if you want to…I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t feel comfortable with, you understand…. But if you wanted to, we could…you know…. stop by the church on our way back to my house. I mean it when I say I don’t want to pressure you. If you don’t want to, I have the money to put you up in the Hotel until you…you know…. until you decide…. you know…. what you want to do.”

  Betsy burst out laughing. “No, thank you, Mr. Wilcox. I don’t think I need to stay in the Hotel until I decide.”

  “So you…uh…you know….” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Do you want to…go over to the church?”

  She took his hand. He froze, and his eyes widened staring into her face. His flustered stammering stopped, and he kept perfectly still. Betsy took a deep breath. “I think we know each other well enough, Mr. Wilcox. I would love to go to the church with you before we go back to your house.”

  He blushed to his eyelashes. “Well, you know, if we’re goin’ over to the church and then going back to my house, I guess you don’t need to call me Mr. Wilcox. Just call me Jed, the way you did in your letters. I liked that.”

  She nodded. For some reason, she hadn’t let go of his hand. “And you can call me Betsy.”

  “Right. Betsy.” He took a moment getting her name out. He pronounced it slowly like he needed time to get used to the sound of it.

  All of a sudden, he let out a whoop. He slapped his hand against his thigh. He spun around and looked every way before he came back to stare at her. “By gum! I never thought I’d live to see this day. You are…. I’m sorry to keep saying this. You are so much more beautiful in person than I ever dreamed. I can’t hardly believ
e you’re standing here in front of me. It seems like my prayers have come true.”

  His exuberant outburst shot to Betsy’s heart. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and her hand flew to her heart. “I feel the same way. My prayers have come true, too.”

  He gasped for breath. Then he turned on his heel to stand next to her. He slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Come on. We’re goin’ to make you into the new Mrs. Wilcox. We’ll have the rest of our lives to stand around and stare at each other.”

  They set off side by side through the clouds of dust. Betsy laughed to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t handle this much happiness pouring out of her. Here she was, walking on the arm of her new husband—or soon-to-be husband.

  Could she really believe this was happening? Was she really on her way to the church to marry this man? After so many months of hoping and praying and agonizing, it was finally about to happen.

  Jed helped her off the porch and onto the wooden sidewalk passing in front of the General Store. The church sat at the far end of town, and their way traversed the whole small town. Men stood in front of the Store. They talked and smoked, and they withdrew out of the way when Jed passed leading Betsy.

  Next they passed the tailor’s shop, followed by three saloons. Loud talking, laughing and crashing sounds came from the first door. Betsy turned her head aside so she wouldn’t hear the noise. Just a few more steps, and they would reach the church.

  Jed’s hand closed over hers, and he pressed her fingers into his arm. Already he knew how to support her and protect her from any unpleasantness. She inched closer to him.

  The pair got as far as the second saloon. The swinging doors creaked open, and a tall, thin man stepped onto the sidewalk in front of them. He glanced around the town and turned his eyes on the couple advancing down the sidewalk toward him.

  His hat hid his silver-grey hair. His clean-shaven face had a pointed, hawkish appearance, and he wore a gun belt slung low around his hips. He wore a tin Sheriff’s star on his coat lapel, but Betsy didn’t like the look of him. She lowered her eyes to the sidewalk in front of her and let Jed lead her.

  Jed stepped aside to skirt around the man when the Sheriff slammed his hand flat against Jed’s chest. He knocked Jed back and startled Betsy. “Just where to you think you’re going?”

  Jed stiffened. The tension translated down his arm and into Betsy. His voice changed pitch, and he rumbled deep in his chest. “I’ll thank you to let us pass. This is a public thoroughfare, and I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, chump,” the Sheriff fired back. “I asked you a question. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” Jed returned. “I’m going, and where I’m going is none of your blamed business.”

  Betsy wanted to shrink away to nothing. The change in Jed’s demeanor alarmed her more than anything. She never expected he could turn so fast from such a sturdy, well-spoken gentleman into a hardened antagonist.

  She had to remind herself. He wasn’t the antagonist. He did nothing to attract this Sheriff’s ire. He was just walking down the street. The Sheriff started this for no reason.

  To Betsy’s horror, the Sheriff turned his attention on her. “Excuse me, Ma’am. I’ll have to ask you where you’re going and what you’re doing in town.”

  “Why do you need to know that?” she asked. “I just got off the coach. Do you question everyone who comes to town this way?”

  He dipped his hat. “That’s my job, Ma’am. Now if you’ll just answer my question, we can get this whole matter straightened out.”

  Betsy took her cue from Jed. She didn’t like this man from the moment she laid eyes on him. The longer she had anything to do with him, the madder she got. “Excuse me, Sheriff, but I’m a law-abiding citizen, and the last time I checked, I don’t need your permission or anybody else’s to walk down the street. So far as I can tell, the only matter that needs to be straightened out is why you think it’s your job to stand in our way and demand an explanation for something that doesn’t concern you.”

  His eyes flashed, and he drew himself up. “I think you better step over to the Jail so we can discuss this in the proper context.”

  Jed stepped between them and came nose to nose with the Sheriff. “You’re not going anywhere with her. Now get out of our way.”

  “That’s it.” The Sheriff seized Jed by the elbow. “You’re under arrest.”

  He tried to spin Jed around and shove him against the wall, but Jed easily overpowered him. He yanked his arm out of the Sheriff’s grip and pushed the taller man away. “Get your hands off me! You’ve got no authority to arrest me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” the Sheriff fired back. “We’ll see about that.”

  Betsy saw the whole situation deteriorating before her eyes. The Sheriff’s hand flew to his hip. She had to stop this before it went any further. She pushed her way around Jed and barged between the two men.

  “That will be quite enough, Sheriff,” she snapped. “I’m sure you can see we were doing nothing wrong by walking down the street together, and you had no right to interfere with us. Now if you’ll get out of our way, we can all go about our business and forget this unpleasantness.”

  “I won’t forget it,” he returned. “Not by a mile.”

  “Then maybe you’d like it better if I reported this incident to the Federal authorities,” she replied. “I’m sure they would be most interested to hear how a local Sheriff is abusing his position to harass law-abiding citizens and interfering with their peaceful conduct. Would that be more to your liking?”

  He bared his teeth at her. “That’s it. You’re under arrest, too. Come on. We’ll see how you use that tongue when you’re locked in a holding cell.”

  He grabbed her elbow and turned her toward the street. He gave her a shove and almost knocked her off the sidewalk. Across the street, she saw the low, board-clad building with the word Jail emblazoned over the door.

  This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be soaring on clouds of ecstasy one minute and plunging into the depths of despair the next. She couldn’t get arrested on her way to marry the man of her dreams.

  Jed exploded in rage. He seized the Sheriff by the shoulder and jerked him back. That movement alone stopped Betsy falling into the dust under the hitching post. The Sheriff rounded on Jed. He got his pistol half out of its holster when a slim, well-dressed young man stepped out of the saloon behind Jed.

  The man stopped on the sidewalk. He paused in the act of rolling himself a cigarette. He observed the scene with languid black eyes. He wore an immaculate grey Stetson hat and a tweed suit with a bow tie. His handlebar mustache curled up at the ends with plenty of wax.

  “What’s the trouble, Sheriff?” he drawled.

  Jed and the Sheriff dropped their hands in a heartbeat. The Sheriff shrugged his suit coat back into place. “No trouble. No trouble at all.”

  Jed and the Sheriff glared at each other. Daggers flew back and forth between one man and another. Neither backed down until the well-dressed man stuck his cigarette in his mouth. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Wilcox. I’ve got a mare that needs reshoeing. Maybe I could bring her around to the forge and have you take a look at her.”

  Jed didn’t take his eyes off the Sheriff. The Sheriff cast a quick glance at the stranger and turned away.

  “Right,” the stranger continued to no one in particular. “I’ll bring her around…let’s see…. How does Wednesday suit you? I thought so. Make it around three o’clock then. If you’ll do me the courtesy, Sheriff, I think my father has some matters of local importance to discuss with you. Why don’t you walk with me up to the house?”

  The Sheriff spun away. He stomped off down the sidewalk without a word. The stranger lit his cigarette and blew smoke in Jed’s face. “Wednesday at three o’clock it is, then.”

  He turned and walked away after the Sheriff.

  Chapter 2
/>   Jed started walking away fast. He marched up the sidewalk on his way toward the church. He didn’t look right or left. Betsy hurried to catch up with him. “What was that all about? What was the problem with those two?”

  “Never mind,” Jed snapped. “Come on. Let’s go to the church.”

  “What’s the Sheriff’s problem with you?” she asked. “He deliberately picked a fight with you.”

  “Forget it.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “I won’t forget it. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  He wouldn’t stop walking. He shook her hand off his arm. “We’re going to the church. That’s what’s going on.”

  She tightened her grip on his arm and spun him around to face her. “If you don’t tell me what that was all about, I’m not going to the church or anywhere else with you, Jed Wilcox. Now start talking, or you’ll be going to the church by yourself.”

  He fixed his flinty eyes on her face, but he didn’t see her standing right in front of him. He glared at something out of sight. All of a sudden, he wilted before her eyes. He let out a shaky breath, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  He slumped down on a bench against the saloon wall behind him. He cast his eyes up and down the street. Betsy watched him. Was he going to tell her or not?

  He let his eyes sink closed. “I should have told you when you first got off the coach. I never should have asked you to go to the church without telling you first.”

  “He’s got something against you, hasn’t he?” Betsy asked. “He had a reason to pick a fight with you.”

  He held up his hand. “Just listen to me for a minute, okay? Don’t interrupt until you hear what I have to say. Once you’ve heard, I’ll ask you again if you want to go to the church. Don’t even think about going to the church until you hear it, okay?”

 

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