Blacksmith Brides

by Amanda Barratt

  “You can meet Meg’s blacksmith later,” Jamie said. “We need to get Robbie home. Now.”

  Meg’s blacksmith. Alexander liked the sound of that. “I have a buckboard at the end of the street.”

  “You two clear a path,” Jamie said.

  Alexander nodded at Andrew, and they bracketed Jamie as he carried Robbie from the fray. They were almost to the edge of the crowd when a gunshot rang through the air.

  “Hurry!” Jamie shouted.

  They broke free and sprinted for the buckboard. Alexander vaulted onto the seat and untied the team. It took all his strength to hold them while the other two lifted Robbie into the back beside the gates and climbed in after him.

  Alexander unlocked the brake, turned the team, and let them have their heads. The pair pounded down the street in a barely controlled panic. They took the turn onto the McCrackens’ street as Alexander battled to bring the horses under control. He turned them up the McCrackens’ drive and pulled them to a stop by the front door.

  The door burst open and Mr. McCracken rushed onto the porch.

  “What is going on?”

  “’Tis Robbie, he has been injured.” Jamie jumped from the buckboard, and Andrew handed him the limp form of their brother.

  Mr. McCracken, his face drained of color, stood aside and let Jamie pass. He stopped Andrew with one hand. “Your horses just returned. I was coming to look for you.” He pointed to his horse at the hitching rail. “Take my mount and fetch the doctor.”

  “We shall take the buckboard.” Alexander met Mr. McCracken’s gaze. The older man blinked, recognition setting in. “Hurry.”

  Andrew scrambled up beside him as Mr. McCracken disappeared into the house.

  “Doctor Barlow lives on—”

  “I know the place.” Alexander slapped the reins over the team’s backs, and they shot down the drive and careened into the street.

  “Have a care, man. We need to return with the doctor in one piece.”

  Alexander gave the horses another slap and gritted his teeth. The lad hadn’t moved since he was hit. They couldn’t get to the doctor soon enough.

  It was Meg’s little brother.

  Meg waited in the hallway at the base of the stairs where she could see the front door. She didn’t want to be far from Robbie’s bedroom where he lay in that unnatural stillness, the blanket over him barely rising as proof that he still breathed. But Alexander was bringing the doctor. She must see him and thank him for what he’d done.

  Jamie had told them about the riot in the street. How he and Andrew had found Robbie already on the ground with Alexander standing over him, protecting him. Then how he’d driven like a wild man to get them home.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  Her heart jolted at the sound of the team pounding up the front drive. She ran to the front door and tore it open. Andrew helped Dr. Barlow from the buckboard. The poor man’s hat was in his hand, wig askew on his head. She stood aside as Andrew hustled the doctor in.

  Then she faced Alexander. He stood beside the lathered team. His coat torn, his hat missing, his jaw swollen and beginning to darken into a bruise.

  He looked perfect to her.

  She half ran, half slipped down the steps. He caught her at the bottom. She threw her arms around his waist, buried her face against his waistcoat, and sobbed.

  “There now, lass.” He put his arms around her shoulders.

  “Robbie has not moved.”

  “The doctor will do all he can.”

  “I know.” She wiped her sleeve across her face in a manner her mother would soundly disapprove of. “But he is my little brother.”

  “Aye.”

  She leaned back, still in the circle of his arms, and looked into his tawny eyes. “You protected him. You brought him back to us. Even if—” Her voice broke. She sniffed and tried again. “Even if we lose him, I shall forever be grateful to you for what you did.”

  “I only wish I could have reached him sooner. Before he took the hit.”

  “Come in the house.”

  “I cannot. The team. I have put them through much, and I need to care for them now.”

  Steam rolled in waves off the animals’ sweaty backs. “But you shall return?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Nothing could keep me away.”

  Which was a good thing, because nothing was going to keep Meg from loving this gentle giant of a man.

  Chapter 11

  Meg awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside her bedroom window, the sun’s first rays peeking in, and the scent of bacon wafting up the stairs. Like any other morning … until the memories came crashing back.

  “Robbie.”

  She threw back the covers and grabbed her dressing gown before dashing down the hallway, her bare feet slapping on the polished wooden floor. Robbie’s door stood open, and she lurched to a halt outside. Her father held up his hand in a plea for her silence. Mother sat in a chair beside Robbie’s bed. She leaned over the mattress, her head pillowed on one arm, her other hand holding Robbie’s. Father rose from his chair across the room and met Meg in the hallway.

  “How is he?”

  “He is breathing a little easier.”

  “Has he …”

  “Not yet. But the doctor did not expect he would come around until today, if then.”

  Or at all. He didn’t say it, but she could see the truth in his eyes. Eyes that looked much older than they had yesterday. They matched the haggard lines drawn deep in his face, covered in gray stubble. He looked … old.

  She hugged him, her face pressed against the side of his neck. “I love you, Father.”

  His arms tightened around her until she feared for her next breath. “Daughter, you mean the world to me.”

  He loosened his hold when Mother yawned and sat up to rub her eyes.

  “Would you fetch your mother some tea? Have Cook brew some of the real tea, if there’s any left.”

  Meg nodded. She stopped by her bedroom for a pair of slippers before heading down the stairs. Alexander said he’d be back. Her heart skittered beneath her dressing gown. She’d better hurry.

  Alexander nudged Asa into a lope. The morning sun crested the trees, shining in his face. A hopeful sight. Would he find anything hopeful when he reached Meg’s house? Robbie’s limp form had haunted his dreams. Why hadn’t he reached the lad sooner?

  Meg’s arms around him last night had filled him with awe. He loved her. He’d wanted to tell her that, but it wasn’t the time. In three days, he’d leave for Virginia. There would be no waiting if he was to meet Daniel Boone when and where they’d agreed. Time was a luxury he didn’t have.

  He rode to the front door and tethered Asa at the hitching rail. Halfway up the steps, the door opened.

  “I knew you would return someday, blacksmith, but I have to say, I did not want it to be under circumstances like these.” David stepped aside and waved him into the hall.

  “Robbie?”

  “No better, but no worse either. According to Jamie, we have you to thank for that.”

  “I did not do enough. I did not reach him before he fell.”

  David thumped him on the back. “You were there and did what you could. I will—we will—always be grateful for that.” He pointed down the hall. “Someone is waiting for you in the parlor.”

  David led the way to an open door and entered before him.

  Meg stood by a tall window, the morning sun surrounding her, its glow a perfect backdrop for her fiery hair. She smiled when he entered and came across the room, but worry lines etched the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry about Robbie.”

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “I said I would.”

  “Indeed.”

  He wanted to say more. Her eyes told him she did as well.

  David sat on the settee. “Have a seat, black—” He coughed a hollow laugh. “I cannot keep calling you blacksmith.”

>   “Ogilvie. Alexander Ogilvie.” Alexander took a seat on one of the dainty chairs and hoped it would hold his weight, although none of the McCracken men were small.

  Meg sank into the matching chair. “We cannot thank you enough for what you did last evening.”

  Heat crept from under Alexander’s collar. They wanted to make him out to be a hero, but he wasn’t. “I wish I would have been in time.”

  “Trust me, we are all kicking ourselves about that.” David leaned forward. “How did you happen to be there?”

  “I was making a delivery to a house down the street.”

  Meg reached across the distance and laid her hand on his arm. “God put you where we needed you.”

  “My daughter is correct.” Callum McCracken entered the room. His haggard face still bore the authority of the laird he might have been. “We owe you a debt we can never repay.”

  “You owe me nothing.”

  Meg didn’t remove her hand, and her father noticed. His forceful look swung from Alexander to Meg and back again. “Today is not the day to renew our conversation from last fall. We will revisit it at another time.”

  Alexander stood. “I am leaving Monday morning. I meet Daniel Boone and his company in Virginia. We begin our journey to build a road over the mountains on March first.”

  A soft gasp came from Meg.

  “Time is, indeed, very short then.” Callum ran his hand over his gray hair, leaving it more disheveled than before.

  “Father, come quickly!” The call was followed by footsteps pounding down the stairs. Jamie skidded into the doorway of the parlor. “He is awake!”

  Meg’s father and brothers rushed the door, but Meg stopped and grabbed Alexander’s hand, tugging him forward.

  “Nay, lass. Go and be with your family.”

  “You must come. You probably saved his life.”

  “’Tis a time for family. Go. I shall return later.”

  “When?”

  “This afternoon.”

  “Promise?” Her eyes filled with tears, a mixture of relief and joy sparkling through them.

  “You are a lass who likes her promises.”

  “Because I know you are a man who keeps them.”

  The faith that shown from her eyes—faith in him—humbled him. “Aye.”

  He watched her scamper up the stairs behind her brothers, their father already gone into a room above. She looked back once, twice, and then disappeared behind a door. He sighed and left. He’d be back, like he said, and he’d get an answer. But would it be the one his heart desperately wanted?

  Dare he hope?

  Meg sat beside Robbie’s bed, unwilling to leave for fear he might slip away again.

  “They say he saved my life.” Robbie’s voice, although weak, was filled with awe. “Jamie said he stood over me like a Viking of old, swinging a crowbar and felling Loyalists like cordwood.”

  “Jamie has been known to enlarge a tale from time to time.” Meg rinsed a clean cloth in cool water and placed it on the discolored lump that encompassed too much of his forehead. “’Tis a good thing you are a hardheaded McCracken. A lesser man would not have survived such a blow.” Pride in her family warmed her soul.

  Robbie winced as the cloth touched his skin. He grabbed her hand. “They should let you marry him, you know. He is a man who can protect you, provide well for you. Even I can see he is in love with you.”

  Meg brushed her free hand across her heated cheeks. Such a conversation to have with her little brother. Not little. Not anymore. She squeezed his hand. “I believe you are correct.”

  “Do you love him?”

  She dropped his hand and stood. “Such a thing to ask.”

  “Jamie says he is leaving on Monday. There is no time to be undecided.”

  “Jamie talks too much.”

  “I do not want you to go, really, but on the other hand, after the war, after we whip the British and send them packing back across the ocean, I would not mind seeing Kentucke.”

  His sheepish grin was her undoing, but her laughter was cut short by a knock at the front door.

  “He’s here.” Robbie struggled to sit.

  She pushed him back while her mouth dried and her heartbeat thundered. “You lie still.”

  “You will come straight back and tell me what happens, will you not?”

  Voices drifted up. Alexander. Her father. Jamie. She patted Robbie’s hand and then stood. “I have no doubt Jamie will beat me to it.”

  One hand pressed to her middle to stop the battle of nerves dancing there, she left the room and descended the stairs. The door to the parlor remained open, and from the voices, everyone but Robbie must have been in there. She pressed both hands to her stomach and breathed in through her nose. Back straight, she walked into the room. Every eye turned to her, but it was Alexander’s she sought. He was there. Tall and handsome, solid and dependable as an oak.

  “Come in, daughter.” Father held a hand out to her, and when she took it, he drew her to his side. “This young man has come to ask my permission to court—nay—to marry you. To marry you Monday morning.”

  Her stomach lurched and settled as her heart raced. She stared at the toes of her shoes and felt the weight of her brothers’ eyes on her. Mother came along her other side and wrapped her arm around Meg’s shoulder.

  “This is not the way I would wish for you to leave us, my daughter.” Mother’s voice wobbled on the last word.

  “Nor must you, you understand.” Father squeezed her hand. “Your mother and I will support your decision. But the choice is yours.”

  Mother nodded and smiled, no sign of disapproval on her face.

  Meg scanned the room. Jamie winked at her. David gave a nod. Andrew grinned. She could almost feel Robbie’s support from the room upstairs. At last she looked into the tawny depth of Alexander’s eyes. What burned there needed no words, although she’d expect to hear them later, once they were alone. She tipped her chin down while her eyes remained locked with his, unable to stop the smile that pulled at her lips.

  He answered with a dazzling display of white that caused her breath to catch. How could one man be so handsome?

  He held out his hand. As she’d seen so often between her parents, there was no need for words.

  She slipped hers into it.

  He drew her to his side.

  She turned to face her parents.

  Father nodded while Mother wiped a tear from her lashes.

  “This young man has proven himself worthy.” Father looked at her brothers. “The war will be upon us soon. We cannot know what that will mean for any of us. Your mother and I have chosen to support the Patriot cause. If we lose …” He held up his hand to stop any forthcoming debate. “If we lose the war, we lose everything. The house, the money, perhaps our very lives. With this uncertainty hanging over our house, I give my blessing for Meg to marry Alexander and secure a future across the mountains. Perhaps for all of us.”

  Meg choked back tears as her brothers surged forward to pound Alexander on the back. Mother wrapped her in a hug. Father’s eyes glistened, from pride she was sure, but maybe a touch of sadness as well. Then he pulled Mother back to his side.

  “I believe Robbie will want to know what has happened. Your mother and I shall go tell him.” He cleared his throat and lifted one gray eyebrow at his sons. “I’m sure you lads all have something to do?”

  Jostling and laughter filled the parlor and spilled into the hall until Father closed the door behind them with a soft click.

  It was just the two of them. Alexander took her hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m a man of few words.”

  “There are some a woman needs to hear.” If she could hear anything over the pounding in her chest.

  “Aye.”

  A shaky laugh tumbled from her throat. “That is not one of them.”

  His laughter rumbled in his chest. “I think I fell in love with you the second time you visited the smithy. The first time I heard you laugh
.”

  “I think I started to fall in love with you that day at the riverbank when I fell in the mud. You laughed, but only after I did first.”

  “Well then.” His fingers tightened around hers. He drew her closer. “May we build a life together that will be filled with love and laughter.”

  “Mr. Ogilvie, do you not have something you wish to ask me?” She wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

  “Aye.” He knelt in front of her, their hands still twined together. “Mistress McCracken, would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”

  “Indeed I will, Mr. Ogilvie. Indeed I will.”

  He stood and his arms came around her.

  As her mother and father had joined together and traveled to a distant land, so would she and Alexander. Her dream had come true despite the coming war.

  She lifted her face as he lowered his. His eyes, hooded by thick lashes, took on a smoky hue. He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. She slid her hands up the front of his coat and let her fingers graze the smooth hairs at the nape of this neck. His lips met hers. It felt like coming home.

  Whatever lay before them in the wilderness of Kentucke, they would meet it together, with love and laughter.

  Author’s Note

  The city of Philadelphia was a city divided. We often think of our staunch Patriots, but there were as many—if not more—Loyalists living there. The Intolerable Acts passed in early 1774 made British-made goods hard to come by in the colonies, including tea and textiles. Benjamin Franklin’s wife died in late 1774 while he was stationed in England to try and keep the peace. He moved back to Philadelphia later that year. Samuel Wetherill, a strong supporter of the Patriot cause, was a Quaker and a businessman in Philadelphia. He was expelled from the Quakers and helped to found a new sect called the Free Quakers or Fighting Quakers. Daniel Boone blazed the Wilderness Road in the spring of 1775.

  Pegg Thomas lives on a hobby farm in northern Michigan with Michael, her husband of *mumble* years. A lifelong history geek, she writes “History with a Touch of Humor.” When not working on her latest novel, Pegg can be found in her garden, in her kitchen, with her sheep, at her spinning wheel, or on her trusty old horse, Trooper. See more at PeggThomas.com.