The Blacksmith’s Bravery (33 page)

“Just bring yourself back, honey.” Bitsy smiled at her.

“You want to take my shotgun?” Augie asked.

“No, thanks. I'll be fine.” She patted her canvas bag, where her pistol lay. The last thing she needed was to lose Augie's shotgun the way she'd lost Griffin's rifle.

“Take your coat,” Bitsy said. “It's fixing to rain.”

Vashti smiled at her. “It's nice to have someone who cares whether or not I get wet.” She walked over to the dry sink and kissed Bitsy's powdered cheek. Bitsy squeezed her.

Vashti waved at Augie and hurried over to the store. Goldie was helping Libby this morning, while several customers stocked up on groceries. Vashti went to the ready-mades section and pulled a men's
shirt off the rack. She sidled up to Libby, who was pouring out a quart of milk for Mrs. Walker.

“Would it be all right if I tried this on in the storeroom?”

Libby looked at her and the shirt and nodded. “Help yourself.”

The new shirt hung loosely on her, but Vashti figured that was good. She tucked it in and put the vest on over it. If this one shrank, it would still fit. She stuffed the old one into her bag and went out into the store.

Goldie was totting up a large order for Terrence Thistle. She shot a sidelong glance toward Vashti. “Whatcha got today?”

“The shirt on my back.”

Mr. Thistle laughed. “You should hear the men when they come in off the stagecoach, arguing over whether you're a girl or not.”

“Really?”

“My, yes. Last week I was afraid they'd come to fisticuffs over it. And then Griff Bane come in with his boy, so I says, ‘Fellas, here's the division agent for the stage line. Whyn't you ask him?'”

Vashti gulped. “Did they?”

“Oh yes. And Griffin says, real somber-like, ‘What's that? A woman driving one of
my
coaches?' He shook his head and said, ‘What next?'”

Goldie laughed. “What did the men say?”

“Not much after that. Griff's so big, I think they was afraid to say any more.”

Vashti smiled, but she wondered how much ragging Griffin would take on her account. If he was stacking up reasons to fire her, he probably had quite a stockpile by now.

“All right, Mr. Thistle, you're all set.” Goldie gave him a piece of paper with his total on it.

He picked up a small crate of groceries. “I'll come back for the rest.”

Vashti watched him go out the door, struggling to shut it behind him. “Too bad he lost his arm in the war.”

“Yeah, but he does all right. Now, let's see, one man's cotton shirt.” Goldie named the price, and Vashti laid the money on the counter.

“Think this one will shrink much?”

“Oh, I wondered why you needed a new one.” She eyed the cuffs that fell down over Vashti's wrists. “That one's plenty big.”

“Good. Got to run.” Vashti whisked out the door and down the sidewalk. To her surprise, the door to the Wells Fargo office was open, and three people were lined up outside. She slowed her steps. As she came even with the office, she stepped down off the boardwalk to avoid the customers, but she could still hear Griffin's loud voice from within the building.

“I'm telling you, Manny, it'll be safe. I'm sending two outriders with the stage, and I'm putting an extra guard on the roof.”

So that was it. People had heard about the holdups and were afraid to ride the stage. She picked up speed and ran past the feed store and down the street, cutting behind the smithy to the livery. Marty was hitching up the last of the six-mule team. Vashti wished she hadn't dawdled so long at the emporium. It must be nearly time for her to drive up to the office.

“Morning, Marty.” She stopped and stared at the two riders sitting astride their horses and the young woman standing near the coach. “Hello, Trudy. Mr. Dooley. Mr. Tinen.”

“Howdy,” Trudy said. “My brother and I and Arthur Jr. are riding along with you today. Hope you don't mind.”

“I heard Mr. Bane say he was sending extra guards with me. Didn't expect you folks.”

“Well, Ned's still laid up,” Trudy said. “Griff asked for my husband this morning, but he's over on Catherine Creek, helping the marshal's deputies look for the outlaws. So I said I'd go.”

“I'm surprised Mr. Bane agreed.”

Trudy shrugged. “He said I couldn't ride point, but I could ride on the stage with you. I suggested he stop at Hiram's place and see if he felt like an adventure.”

Hiram smiled and nodded, but said nothing. He and Arthur Tinen Jr. had rifles in scabbards on their saddles, and Art also wore a sidearm.

Art said, “That's about the way of it. I was over to Hiram's to see if he could fix my leather punch for me when Griff came by, and we both thought it sounded like a noble thing to do.”

“Noble,” Trudy scoffed. “You only came because Griffin offered you five dollars for the trip, and even then you're lucky Starr let you go.”

Arthur grinned and shrugged one shoulder. “We'd best get moving. Griffin said we had to be on time.”

“Right. Climb up, Trudy.” Vashti mounted the box. She stowed her canvas bag under the seat and readied her whip.

Trudy climbed up cautiously and took the seat Ned usually had. She held her rifle on her knees. “So far, this is fun. Wish I had trousers, though.” She smoothed down her brown divided skirt.

“All ready, Georgie,” Marty called from his place at the lead mules' heads.

Vashti gathered the reins and gave him a nod. Hiram and Arthur rode out just ahead of them, and she put the mules into a trot. As they rounded the corner by the smithy, she looked over at Trudy.

“I have to admit it feels good to have two outriders… and to have the best shot in Fergus sitting beside me on the box.”

Trudy smiled. “I can see why you like this job.”

“Think Ethan will mind you doing it?”

“By the time he hears, I'll be home. Besides, Griffin says we've likely got the safest route in Idaho today. Those outlaws are off east of here, hiding from the law.”

“I hope he's right.” Vashti felt a flicker of fear but shook it off. “Will you stay at the stage stop with me tonight?”

“Yes, Griffin gave us money for our room and board.”

Vashti thought about that as she guided the mules to a stop before the Wells Fargo office. The holdup had cost Griffin a lot—more than just the horses and his rifle.

He stood, grim and foreboding, on the boardwalk. “Four of your six passengers decided not to go.”

Vashti gritted her teeth. “I'm sorry. I suppose you had to refund their ticket money.”

He nodded. “You okay with your new messenger?”

“Oh, sure. Trudy's great.”

Griffin stepped closer and looked up at them earnestly. “You know I wouldn't let the two of you go if I didn't think the road would be safe today.”

Vashti nodded. “Thanks for giving us an escort.”

Griffin eyed Hiram and Arthur, who sat their horses ahead of the coach, waiting for the passengers to board. “Well, I don't like putting my friends at risk, but I didn't have anyone else on hand. I can't go off and leave Justin again so soon. Guess I could have sent Marty, but… well, you know Marty.”

“Yeah, and he can't shoot straight, either.”

Griffin cracked a smile. “All right then, Georgie. I'll load the mail sacks and tuck the passengers in. Be safe.”

Vashti raised her coiled whip to her hat brim.

He turned away, and Trudy said, “That man cares about you.”

Vashti chuckled. “He cares about all his employees.”

“That's not what I meant. He's worried about you personally.”

Vashti tucked that comment away to examine later. The mail sacks thudded on the coach floor, making the stage sway; then the two hardy men who hadn't demanded refunds climbed in. Griffin waved, and Vashti turned forward. “Up now!”

Ethan rode in tired, sweaty, and chilled. He'd been in the saddle all day, in the rain. He only wanted one thing: home. Home meant a hot meal to fill his belly, hot water to wash in, a cozy, comfortable bed to sleep in—and Trudy. He smiled as Scout plodded down the lane toward the ranch house. No smoke came from the chimney. That was odd on a chilly evening like this. The sun was bedding down for the night behind the mountains, but no lights shone from the kitchen window—or any other window.

Scout would have gone on toward the barn, which meant a meal and a dry bed for him, too, but Ethan pulled back on the reins.

“Whoa!” He stared at the silent house.

Across the sodden barnyard, a lantern glowed in the window of the little bunkhouse where the McDade brothers slept. He turned Scout toward it. Dismounting, he dropped the reins. After a brief knock, he opened the door a few inches and stuck his head into the gap.

“Spin?”

“Yeah, boss.” Spin jumped up from his chair near the stove and hurried toward him. “Didn't expect you tonight.”

“Where's Trudy?”

“Uh…”

Ethan scowled at him. “What's the matter with you?”

Johnny set his tin plate down and came to stand beside Spin. “Miz Chapman's gone.”

Ethan scowled even harder at Johnny, so hard it hurt. “What do you mean, gone? Did she go over to Hiram's this evening?”

“Nope. She went to Nampa.”

Ethan cocked his head to one side and considered whether the young man was teasing him or not.

“That ain't funny.”

“It's true,” Spin said. “She went on the stagecoach. Mr. Dooley and Arthur Tinen Jr. went along on their horses.”

Ethan swiveled his gaze to Spin. “Whatever for? Did somebody die in Nampa?”

“Nope, but Griff Bane needed extra guards for the stagecoach,” Johnny said.

Ethan let that sink in. Very slowly, deliberately, as if the boys were still cutting their teeth and wearing short pants, he said, “Are you telling me that my wife is riding shotgun on a stagecoach?”

Spin nodded, a gleam in his eyes. “She said you wouldn't know 'til after she came home tomorrow, but if you did get home first, to tell you not to worry.”

“That's right,” Johnny added. “Griff said you was keeping them outlaws so busy they wouldn't come anywhere near the stage today, so they'd be safe.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Well, if it's so all-fired safe, why did he send Hiram and Art and
my wife
along to protect it?”

Johnny looked away.

Spin shrugged. “Word is, folks don't want to ride the stage unless they have extra guards.”

Johnny perked up again. “Yeah. I wanted to go. Griff was paying five bucks a man.”

“Or woman,” Spin put in.

“Yeah. Only he said I was too young.”

“That right?” Ethan was feeling a mite testy by this time. He glared at Spin. “Why didn't you go?”

“Well, boss, I didn't think you'd want me to. Not with the missus gone. I mean, would you want me to leave the ranch in the hands of a seventeen-year-old rapscallion?”

Ethan looked from him to his younger brother. “Guess not.” He let out a long, slow breath. “You boys got any grub?”

Vashti and Trudy chattered as they neared Nampa. The rain had slacked off, but the breeze was still chilly. Trudy rubbed at her gun barrel with a handkerchief.

“I hope this rifle doesn't rust from getting wet today.”

Vashti looked over at her. “Too bad we had to drive most of the way in the rain. Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. I dressed for it. What do you do when you stay over in Nampa?”

“I usually have the rest of the day free. Once I walked up the street a little and looked in the shops, but mostly I stay at the station. I get my supper and go to bed early. I'll ask if you can be in the same room with me tonight.”

“That would be fun.”

Vashti called out to the riders, “Mr. Dooley! Mr. Tinen!”

They turned in their saddles.