Brides of Arizona, page 34
Anger swept through Josiah. He clenched his fists tightly against his legs. Every part of him wanted to drag this man from the buggy and wipe that insolent look from his face. “Vengeance is mine.” The voice of the Holy Spirit seemed to whisper in his mind. The anger drained away, and Josiah stepped back to watch Mead drive off, whipping his horses to a quick trot.
Stalking back into the shop, Josiah stoked the fire, then picked up his hammer. The heavy instrument felt good as his fist tightened around the handle. He couldn’t wait for the ore to get pliable in the heat. Was this why the Lord made him a blacksmith—so he could take out his anger and frustrations on metal instead of pounding men like Mead?
Stirring the coals, Josiah shoved a piece of iron in to heat up. Impatience tore at him, making him want to pull the rod from the fire long before it would be ready. At last, he plucked the bar out, shaking the remnants of red-hot coals from the shaft. After swinging over to the anvil, Josiah hefted the hammer in his hand and began to pound with a vengeance that sent sparks flying.
Jesus, help me. You know I want to think about this being Mead instead of a piece of iron. Help me to forgive, to find something about the man that is lovable in Your eyes. I surely can’t see anything from my point of view.
The redness faded as the bar cooled, and Josiah turned to thrust it back into the coals for a second heating. He did feel better. Praying and working always helped. Blacksmithing was a noisy occupation and gave him plenty of time for prayer and thinking.
When he finished talking with God, his mind strayed from Bertrand Mead to Lavette Johnson. Never had he seen such a beautiful woman. He could picture Adam’s reaction to Eve in the garden when Adam said, “This is now bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh.” Adam must have been as bowled over by Eve as Josiah was with Lavette. She had to be the one for him. He could still remember the prayer, then looking up and seeing her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over his work before. Have you, Quinn?” Conlon Sullivan stood in the door of the shop next to Deputy Quinn Kirby. Both of them had thoughtful expressions on their faces.
“Nope. I don’t believe I have.” Quinn frowned and shook his head. “I love my job, and I know you love yours, but we don’t go around wearing a grin that stretches our cheeks out of shape while we’re doing our work.”
Heat other than from the forge warmed Josiah’s face. He put the metal bar back by the coals, trying to give himself some time to get over the embarrassment of being caught thinking of Lavette. At least with his dark skin, his cheeks wouldn’t show red like Quinn’s usually did. He wiped his hands on a rag.
“Afternoon, Conlon, Quinn. What brings you over this way? Got time to sit a spell?” Gesturing at a bench outside in the shade, Josiah waited for the pair to lead the way, then followed.
Conlon slumped down and tilted his hat forward to lessen the sun’s brightness. “We may not have come for anything in particular. That bright light drew us.”
“That’s right.” Quinn pretended to rub his eyes. “The glow from your smithy made the sun look dim for awhile. We didn’t realize you could make a place shine like that.”
“If Glorianna and I ever run out of lamp oil, we’ll have you come over and light up the house.”
“All right.” Josiah thought about tipping the bench over and sending his joking friends into the dust. “If you don’t want me to dunk you in the horse trough, lay off.”
“Did you hear that, Deputy? I believe this man is threatening us.”
Quinn frowned. “I may have to consult the judge on this one. I’m not sure of the penalty here.”
Josiah laughed. He couldn’t help it. These two were his friends, and they wouldn’t quit until they wormed every bit of information from him they could. “Aw, what do you guys really want? A tool repaired? Horses shod?”
Blue eyes twinkled as Conlon chuckled. “I did have some business, but now we want to know the reason for that idiotic grin. A smile that dazzling doesn’t come along every day.”
With a groan, Josiah shook his head. Conlon wouldn’t give up until he told him. They’d been friends for too long. He couldn’t hide anything anymore.
“A girl came by the shop this morning.” Warmth flowed through Josiah at the thought of Lavette.
“A girl?” Conlon raised an eyebrow. “Just any girl? Is this someone we know?”
“Naw. She’s new in town. I don’t even know where I can find her. She ran off before I could find out where she’s living.”
“If she’s that afraid of you, maybe you should give up before you start.” Conlon’s remark started Quinn chuckling.
“She wasn’t afraid of me. Bertrand Mead showed up.”
Quinn and Conlon sobered. Quinn frowned. “He’s enough to make anyone run away. I wish I could find something to pin on him, but that fella is slipperier than a wet snake.”
Clapping Josiah on the back, Conlon nodded. “So tell us what you know about this girl.”
“Her name is Lavette Johnson. She’s the most beautiful woman God ever made.” Josiah gave a sheepish grin. “I’m not saying Glorianna and Kathleen aren’t beautiful, but Lavette is special. From her Southern accent and the way she acted around Mead, I’d say she grew up on a plantation as a slave.”
“Did Mead do something wrong?” Quinn asked.
“Everything Mead does is wrong.” Josiah groaned. “Sorry. I have a hard time finding something likable about that fella. Anyway, he was cocky and tried to touch her. She ran away.”
“Did he go after her?” Quinn had a mean look in his eye.
“No, he let her go, but he knows her name, and he wants to find her. Who knows what he’ll do if he does?”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to find Miss Johnson before Mead does.” Conlon stood and stretched. “If I wasn’t needing to get business over with, I’d take the time to tell you all about the man in my regiment whose mother-in-law came to town with a servant who used to be a slave.”
Chapter 3
Surging to his feet, Josiah didn’t know whether to grab Conlon and hug him or shake him. “You know where she lives?”
“How many head of horses did you need shod, Conlon?” Quinn pulled out his knife and began to clean his fingernails.
“That’s right.” Conlon snapped his fingers. “Josiah, I wanted to see how soon you can come to Fort Lowell and check the horses. Several of them need new shoes before we go out on maneuvers again.” Conlon studied the cloudless blue sky.
Josiah knew they were funning with him, so he bit back a groan. “I have to know where she lives. Tell me the man’s name.” Josiah wanted to get down on his knees and beg Conlon at the same time his stomach clenched in anticipation.
“Now, Josiah, you know I’m not a gossiping man. I’ll have to go back and check with the gentleman involved and see if I can give out that information.”
“Conlon, I will never shoe your horse again if you don’t stop this.”
“Josiah’s a mite touchy, wouldn’t you say, Quinn?”
“I will tell Glorianna, and you won’t have a hot meal or a moment of peace for weeks.” Josiah leaned forward, his fists on his hips.
Conlon winced. “Aw, you’re getting downright mean.” He sighed. “All right. I wouldn’t want you bothering Glory about this, and I can see you’re determined. Paul Ashton’s mother-in-law arrived two weeks ago. She’s had an attack of apoplexy, and his wife wanted her to come here to visit since they couldn’t go back East. I think she’s hoping her mother will decide to stay.”
“So where are they living?” Josiah once again resisted the urge to shake the information out of Conlon.
“I don’t know that.” Conlon lifted his hat, ran his hand through his thick black hair, and settled his cap back on his head.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“Paul told us about them coming, but they aren’t staying at the same house because Paul has three very rambunctious boys. They thought his mother-in-law would be able to rest easier in a separate house.”
Josiah groaned. “Where can I find this Paul Ashton so I can ask where they’re living?”
“He’ll be out at the fort all day. Then I believe he said something about coming to town for supper tonight.” Conlon grinned and clapped Josiah on the back. “I’ll ask him tomorrow, so when you come to shoe the horses, I can tell you where to find your lady.”
“That might be too late.” Josiah rubbed a drip of sweat from his temple.
“Why are you so certain you need to find her right away?” Quinn snapped his knife shut and slipped it back into his pocket.
“You didn’t see the way Mead looked at her or hear the comments he made about her. That man has something in mind, and I don’t think it’s anything good.”
Sauntering after Conlon, Quinn swung up onto his horse. He grinned at Conlon and gave him a wink. “You know that little adobe house about a block from Mrs. Monroy’s boardinghouse?” Josiah felt a surge of hope as Quinn continued. “It’s the house that sits back a ways from the road and has been deserted for several months.”
Frowning, Conlon gave a quick nod. “Yeah, I remember the place.”
“I heard the other day that someone moved in there. Some lady from back East who’s convalescing. I believe she has someone there helping her out.”
Josiah let out a whoop. “I could drag you off that horse and hug you, Quinn Kirby. Of course, that’s right after I yell at the two of you for tormenting me like this.”
“I think that means we should leave.” Quinn laughed and urged his horse after Conlon’s.
“I’ll be out to the fort on Thursday, Conlon,” Josiah called after the two riders, the grin once more splitting his face. This afternoon, when he’d finished his work, he’d clean up, mosey over to that house, and welcome those newcomers. He’d show them the people of Tucson were mighty hospitable. He chuckled to himself. At least he wanted to show one of them how friendly he could be.
Straightening from putting away the last of the dishes, Lavette put her hands on her hips and rotated her shoulders to ease the ache. Moving Mrs. Sawyer around in the bed got harder every day. The older woman was gaining strength and weight. At times like tonight when Lavette’s back felt like she’d been kicked by a whole herd of mules, she had to wonder if Mrs. Sawyer’s continued recovery wasn’t a mixed blessing. Shaking her head, she sighed as she wiped a few errant crumbs from the table. She’d come to care for Amelia Sawyer too much to want her to stay sickly. For years, she’d wanted to hate the woman but couldn’t because Mrs. Sawyer had to be one of the most caring people she’d ever been around. Once Mrs. Sawyer believed a person worthwhile, she was very loyal to them.
Glancing out the window, Lavette could see the sun sinking lower in the sky, but still giving plenty of light. What would have been fall days back home proved to still carry summer warmth here in Tucson. A gentle breeze blew outside, and she relished the idea of sitting on the porch with the mending she intended to do this evening. That breeze would feel good, and she knew the house sat far enough from the street that most people wouldn’t notice her. She had no desire to have anyone stop by for a conversation with her. She preferred the peace and quiet of her own thoughts after a day such as this one. Fixing supper and helping with Gretta’s children while the adults ate always wore her out. Those boys were terrors, although adorable ones.
Settling into the chair at the end of the porch nearest the parlor, Lavette tipped her head back, allowing the soothing wind to cool her face. From here, she could hear her employer if she needed anything; yet with the trellis and vines coming down over the porch, she wouldn’t be easily visible to those passing by. This position was almost as good as the weeping willow she used to sit under as a child, trying to hide from the ugliness of slavery.
Her thoughts turned to her family so far away. She hadn’t seen them in years. By now her brother Toby would be eighteen. Was he married? Did he still work with her father, or had he moved out on his own? Lila and Nellie, her sisters, would be fourteen and eleven now. Lila would be starting to attract the attention of some of the young men in the area. Before long, they would be all grown up, and Lavette would have missed watching it happen. She blinked back tears, knowing they did no good and hating the weakness of them.
Placing her mending in her lap, Lavette watched the street. This small cottage sat back from the road, the view partially blocked by the large house in front of and to the side of this one. Although only a small portion of the roadway was visible, Lavette could see a few people strolling past. Evenings here seemed to be a time of getting out and visiting with neighbors. She was thankful her distance from the street gave her privacy.
A low moan came from inside the house. Lavette jumped up and set the skirt she was working on in the vacated chair. Walking quietly, she moved into the house and peeked into Mrs. Sawyer’s room. The elderly woman had thrown off her covers, drawing her knees up to fight a chill. After tucking the blankets back around the woman, Lavette smoothed Mrs. Sawyer’s hair and waited until her breathing evened. She tiptoed from the room. Quite often since they’d traveled west, Mrs. Sawyer woke from dreams that made her restless. Lavette hoped this wouldn’t be one of those nights, or she wouldn’t get much sleep, either.
The shadows were growing when Lavette stepped back out onto the porch. Her slippers whispered soft against the boards as she headed for her chair. When she bent to pick up her sewing, a shadow at the edge of the porch moved. Lavette clapped her hand across her mouth to avoid a shriek that would surely wake Mrs. Sawyer. Her heart pounded.
“Sorry to startle you, Miss Johnson. I saw you go inside. You left your mending on the chair, so I figured you’d be back out. I hope you don’t mind that I waited.” The huge blacksmith’s grin banished the shadows.
Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, Lavette waited a moment for her heart rate to slow. “You scared the insides out of me.”
He twisted the hat in his hands until she wondered if the thing would survive the torture. “You rushed off so fast this morning, I didn’t find out what you needed.” Josiah looked chagrined, as if he knew the story sounded contrived. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Clasping her hands together, Lavette hoped Josiah wouldn’t notice her trembling. For some strange reason, she couldn’t control her emotions around this man. She couldn’t even seem to concentrate on what he asked.
“Excuse me?” She felt stupid, staring at his wonderful smile and missing what he’d said.
“I wondered if there were some business I could help you with.”
“I—uh, no I don’t believe so.”
He frowned, the fading of his smile allowing the shadows to close in. He arched one eyebrow. “Are you sure? You must have come by my shop for some reason. Do you have a horse that needs to be shod?”
A horse? His shop? Her brain tried to grasp his question. Remembrance flooded over her. “Oh, this morning.” Heat suffused her cheeks. “I wanted to ask about a few things. They weren’t important.”
“Please sit down.” He gestured at her still-vacant chair. Picking up her mending, she slid into the chair. His smile returned. Her heart sped up.
“If those things you wanted to ask about were important this morning, then they’re still important now. Why don’t you tell me what you need, and I’ll see if I can help?”
“I—we arrived in Tucson a couple of weeks ago. Mrs. Sawyer plans to stay another six weeks. I wanted to inquire about getting a knife repaired and possibly getting another one to use while we’re here. I thought perhaps you made tools as well as shoeing horses.” She twisted the torn skirt in her hands until the prick of the needle stuck in the cloth startled her.
“I have several knives and other utensils at my shop. I’ll see that you get what you need.” Josiah settled his large frame back against the rail, which creaked under the pressure.
“We’ll only be here a short time before heading back East.” Lavette couldn’t meet his eyes. Maybe his interest would be discouraged if he thought she would be leaving soon.
“There’s no reason your stay can’t be as comfortable as possible.” Josiah’s voice was a deep rumble that calmed her. No wonder the man was so good with horses. She thought she could sit and listen to him talk all night. He spoke in such a slow, easy manner.
“I’ve heard you’re here to visit Paul Ashton and his family. Where do you come from?” Josiah’s eyes gleamed like obsidian in the shadows.
“We came here from Virginia.” Lavette lowered her gaze from his, unable to meet his intense study for long.
“Have you always lived there?” Josiah crossed his arms over his massive chest. He acted like he planned to stay for a long time. Lavette couldn’t think of a way to get rid of him fast without being offensive, and she didn’t want to insult this gentle giant.
“I lived in Alabama before moving north with Mrs. Sawyer because of her health.” Smoothing the skirt she was mending, Lavette couldn’t seem to quit talking so he would leave. “Mrs. Sawyer had to leave the South because of the damp in the air. The doctor said the moist night air was bad for her lungs, and the only hope for her to improve was to get her up north in the cooler, dryer climates. He wanted her to go to New York, but she insisted she didn’t know anyone there. Her brother lived in Virginia, so we moved in with him.”
“So when Mrs. Sawyer leaves, she’ll return to her brother’s house?”
Lavette’s gaze jerked up to meet those twinkling eyes and that wide grin that affected her. She looked back down at her sewing. Had he meant to suggest she might not be returning with Mrs. Sawyer? If so, he didn’t understand her position here. She had no choice about what she would do.
“Mrs. Sawyer’s brother passed on last year. He never married. His solicitor has instructions to see that she is well cared for as long as she chooses to reside there. We’ll be going back to Virginia as soon as this visit is over.” Lavette wanted to ask Josiah to tell her about his background, if for no other reason than to hear his voice, but she didn’t want him to think her interested. She wanted to discourage him, not encourage him.
