The Blacksmith’s Bravery (41 page)

Anyway, here he was. He didn't have a true suit, but Libby had allowed he could wear the black jacket he wore for funerals and a pair of black pants. He'd bought a new white shirt, and Hiram had brought him a tie just like his own and Ethan's and Augie's. Augie was the other groomsman. Griffin looked over at him and almost laughed aloud. Augie was completely bald. He stood about five feet, nine inches, and he had more muscle than anyone Griffin knew—with the possible exception of himself. But that was understandable. He pounded iron. Augie, on the other hand, pounded biscuit dough. How did he keep those muscles?

Griffin scanned the crowd, looking for Justin. Finally he spotted him near the back, squished in on a bench with the Nash boys. That might spell trouble. Peter and Ellie sat farther toward the front, so they could get a good look at Florence when she came down the aisle. Griffin guessed he'd be the one to walk out of the church with Florence. That didn't bother him any. He just hoped those boys would sit still during the wedding and not cause a disturbance. A memory of his cousin Amelia's wedding twenty years ago made him squirm. Was there any way Justin could have gotten his hands on fireworks?

Music started, and Goldie came up the aisle. She was a pretty little thing, all pink and gold in her fancy dress. Her blond hair cascaded down in back, below her white straw hat. She carried pink and white flowers and smiled all the way down the aisle. Behind her came Florence Nash. With her orange-red hair up on her head underneath her hat, she didn't clash too badly with her pink dress. It was just like Goldie's, but Florence looked ganglier and less graceful than Goldie.

Trudy Chapman had come a long way from the homely tomboy who test-fired guns for her brother. She looked good in the pink dress, too. Ethan stood watching her and grinning from ear to ear. You'd have thought he was at a horse auction and they'd led in a leggy, thoroughbred filly.

But none of the bridesmaids looked as nice as Vashti, sitting in the second row on the groom's side with Bitsy. She wore a shimmery
blue dress Griffin thought he might have seen before. Maybe at church—or not. But it was far too proper to be one of her made-over barmaid dresses. She looked fine, and it was a chore to take his eyes off her.

The music changed, and all of a sudden the congregation stood, startling Griffin back to the moment. In the church doorway, Libby stood, resplendent in ivory silk, clinging to Charles Walker's arm. That was fitting. Charles had been a close friend of Libby's departed first husband.

Griffin had to admit Libby eclipsed all her bridesmaids. Not many women in Idaho would get married in a dress she could never wear anyplace else. The pale silk glimmered with tiny little beads and embroidery. Way too fancy for any other kind of outing. But he guessed Libby could afford it.

As Charles walked her down the aisle, trying hard to conceal his limp, Libby smiled at the folks on both sides, then focused on the front. Griffin turned his head and saw Hiram's face. Now there was a man in love. Griffin almost wished he knew what it felt like to be that happy.

Vashti couldn't help it. Tears gushed from her eyes as the parson pronounced Libby and Hiram man and wife. Hiram stooped to kiss his magnificent bride, and Libby raised her hands to his shoulders and kissed him back. It was the most romantic thing Vashti had ever seen. The gold band glinted on Libby's finger. Did she know Trudy had transported it from Boise tied to her corset lacings?

And Griffin! Who would have thought he could look so handsome? Augie had trimmed both his and Justin's hair in the kitchen last night. Griffin had trimmed his beard, too. He looked almost like a gentleman in his church clothes. Even Augie looked solemn and presentable.

She leaned over and poked Bitsy. “Your man looks mighty fine.”

“Yes, and isn't Goldie gorgeous?”

Bitsy's eyes were full of tears, too. Vashti dabbed at her face with a new lawn handkerchief.

Pastor Benton beamed at them all. “I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Hiram Dooley.”

Everyone clapped and cheered as Hiram and Libby swooped down the aisle and out the door. Trudy took Ethan's arm and walked more sedately. Behind them came Griffin with Florence. Vashti felt the tiniest twinge of envy for the girl on Griffin's arm, but Griffin didn't seem to care much which lady he escorted. Last came Goldie, in step with Augie, grinning and swishing her rose satin skirts.

“Well, I guess we'd better scoot, or the guests will all be over to the Spur before we get there.” Bitsy stood and picked up her mesh reticule. “Nice wedding.”

“Yes. Very nice.” Vashti followed her into the aisle.

“Hey, there.”

She looked up into Johnny Conway's face. “What are you doing here?”

“No stage on my run today,” Johnny said. “Griff asked me to come take over from Bill when the Silver City stage comes in. I'll take it on all the way to Boise.”

“They should be coming in soon.”

“I figure I've got just time for a piece of wedding cake. Say, Georgie…”

She frowned up at him. “What?”

“You look real good today.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and pressed on through the crowd.

At the Spur & Saddle, Augie had already unlocked the door, and folks crowded into the dining room. The gifts were piled on a table to one side, where the town councilors used to have their weekly poker game. Libby had requested wedding cake, lemonade, coffee, and tea, which Bitsy had set up on the bar, with baskets of candy and dainty cookies on the tables. Since folks had eaten dinner an hour before the wedding, it was plenty.

Vashti ducked into the kitchen and found an apron. She took charge of the lemonade bowl, ladling cup after cup of the stuff. Libby and Hiram sat at the central table, receiving congratulations, and the bridesmaids and groomsmen sat with them. Myra Harper and
her younger sister, Phyllis, had agreed to help serve, since Augie and Goldie were occupied. Bitsy gave them instructions and circled the room with a coffeepot in her hand.

After ten minutes or so, Augie got up and made the rounds of the tables, talking to the men. Vashti had figured he wouldn't sit still long. Griffin was the next to defect. He came over and held out his empty cup.

“More lemonade, Mr. Bane?” she asked.

“Don't mind if I do, thanks.”

She could feel him watching her as she poured.

“You look fine in that dress.”

She felt her cheeks heat up. “Thank you.” She held out the cup but couldn't quite meet his gaze. He took the lemonade but didn't walk away. Finally she glanced up at him. “Can I get you something else?”

“I was wondering…”

His voice sounded odd, not at all like his usual confident self. She raised her chin and looked up into his eyes. Big, chocolate brown eyes. The haircut and clothes certainly suited him. And the expression deep in those eyes… Not the shameful one men used to rake her with in saloons. A wistful, yearning look. It touched her heart, and her knees shook. Griffin was one of the decent men in this town. Could he ever think of her as a decent woman?

“Yes?” It came out a whisper.

The door flew open. The wedding guests stopped in mid-chatter. Josiah Runnels looked wildly around the room and homed in on the big blacksmith.

“Griff! The stage just pulled in, and Bill's been shot.”

CHAPTER 28

T
he Spur & Saddle had never emptied so fast. Doc Kincaid and Augie were the first two out the door, but the whole town poured onto Main Street in fifteen seconds flat.

Vashti ran, trying to stick to Griffin's coattails, but his long legs carried him much faster than she could go. When she got to the coach, Doc was already inside. Griffin, Johnny, Augie, and Ethan stood in a tight group before the door, keeping folks back. Pete Gilbert, who'd been Bill's messenger, still sat on the box, the reins slack in his hands and his head bowed.

Vashti scooted around Ethan and climbed up beside Pete. She put her hand on his slumped shoulder. “What happened?”

“Road agents. Bill whipped up the mules and tried to run through them, but they shot him first thing. The mules were tearing by then, and I had to drop my gun and try to slow them down, or at least keep them from flinging the coach off one of those hairpin turns.”

Vashti shuddered, recalling the steep drop-offs along the road to Silver City. “Where was it?”

“This side of Sinker Creek, maybe a mile out. Uphill. They always try to get you when you're going uphill.”

She nodded. Some of those grades were worse than a pitched roof.

Ethan's head and shoulders appeared on the other side of the stage. “Pete. Want to tell me about it?”

Vashti grabbed a handful of skirts and prepared to climb down.

“I'll leave, Sheriff, and you can sit up here with him.”

She dropped to the street. Doc Kincaid was backing out of the stagecoach. He turned and faced Griffin.

“I'm sorry, Bane. Does he have family to notify?”

Vashti caught her breath. Her stomach wrenched. She turned away and took a few steps to the off wheeler's head.

Bill couldn't be dead. Sweet old Bill who'd built her driving rig for her and taken her out to Hiram's ranch to practice. The white-haired driver who'd treated her like a daughter. Her first run, she'd ridden with him, and he'd helped keep the secret of her disguise at least for that first trip. She clung to the sweaty mule's harness and sobbed.

How long she stood there, she didn't know. She found her handkerchief, tucked in her sleeve—the same one she'd used an hour ago at the wedding. The voices around her faded as people moved away from the coach. Unable to stop crying, she clenched her hands around the tug strap and gritted her teeth. Dear old Bill.

A large hand rested on her shoulder.

“Come on, Georgie. Let go, so's Johnny can take the team around to the livery.”

Griffin. She'd never heard his voice so gentle. Her throat was hot and achy. She stared at her hands, curled around the strap so tightly that her knuckles were white. She sobbed again.

“There now.” His hand stroked her hair lightly and came down on her shoulder again. “Come on.” His large, warm hands closed over her stiff fingers. He gently pried her hand from the harness. “Let Pete and Johnny take the team.”

Her fingers came loose, and she backed away from the mule into Griffin's solid form. She turned and looked at the front of his shirt, clean white for the wedding. Her gaze traveled slowly up to the necktie that looked so foreign around Griffin's neck, to his neatly trimmed beard, his grim mouth, and at last his compassionate eyes.

She dove toward him, a new sob racking her body. He folded her in his arms and pulled her close against his wedding shirt.

“There now.”

He eased her away from the mules and the stage. A whip cracked,
and Johnny Conway clucked to the mules. The wheels rolled as the mules started forward.

Griffin held her for a minute, stroking her back softly. Finally she pulled back and took a deep breath.