The Blacksmith’s Bravery by Susan Page Davis Read Free Book Online

bowler hat, revealing his balding head. After a quick glance at his companion, Vashti catalogued them as man and wife, in their sixties, probably come to visit grandchildren.
    â€œDo you need a place to eat lunch? Because the Spur & Saddle, over yonder, has the best food in Fergus.”
    â€œThank you, that was to be my first question,” the man said. “The second was where we might find Mrs. Elizabeth Adams.”
    Vashti grinned. “Well, that sure is easy. Turn around.”
    A couple of doors down, Libby was just coming out of the Paragon Emporium with Florence Nash, who clerked for her in the store.
    â€œMiz Adams,” Vashti called.
    As usual, Libby wore a fashionable but modest dress made of good material. The powder blue gown brought out the vivid blue of her eyes, and her golden curls were topped by a matching bonnet. Florence, who was quite pretty, looked almost ordinary next to the lovely lady.
    Libby advanced toward them with a smile. “Yes, Miss Edwards? May I help you?”
    Her well-modulated tones inspired Vashti to speak as smoothly as the emporium’s owner. “Yes, ma’am. These folks would like to see you.”
    Libby looked at the couple, favoring them with a hesitant smile. “Hello. Have you just arrived in Fergus?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” The man gestured toward his wife. “We’re the Hamiltons. We’ve corresponded with you.”
    â€œWhy, yes, of course.” Libby’s reserve melted, and she extended her hand, first to the lady and then to the gentleman. “Forgive me. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” She turned to include Florence and Vashti in her explanation. “Ladies, this couple is interested in viewing the emporium with the prospect of buying it.”
    Vashti caught herself so she didn’t let out an unladylike whoop. It was no secret that Libby Adams planned to marry the shy gunsmith, Hiram Dooley, but she couldn’t until she sold her business. No one in Fergus could afford to buy it—with the possible exception of the schoolmarm, Isabel Fennel, who had inherited a large estate from her father. But Isabel enjoyed teaching and had no desire to run a store, thank you, so Mrs. Adams had advertised the emporium in several Eastern newspapers. Goldie had told Vashti all the details she’d learned while stocking shelves in the store.
    â€œYou must be tired.” Libby addressed the lady. “Did you folks come all the way from Boise today?”
    â€œYes, we did,” Mrs. Hamilton said. “We were anxious to get here and meet you and see the emporium.”
    â€œOf course. But you must be hungry.” Libby looked to Mr. Hamilton.
    â€œWell…”
    â€œOf course you are. Please allow me to entertain you at our finest restaurant.” Libby looked apologetically at Florence. “My dear, I fear I must let you go to the club without me today. Please make my excuses to Trudy. She will understand.”
    â€œYes’m,” said Florence.
    â€œLet me give you folks a quick look at the emporium before we eat.” Libby turned her head and raised her eyebrows in Vashti’s direction. “Miss Edwards, could you possibly run ahead and see if the Moores can accommodate three late diners? We shall be over in ten minutes.”
    â€œI surely can.” Vashti gathered her satin skirt and leaped off the boardwalk. She ran across the street.
    When she charged into the dining room, Bitsy was just picking up her husband’s shotgun. Dressed in her red bloomer costume, she looked the part of a sharpshooter.
    â€œWhat’s happened?” she asked, eyeing Vashti with trepidation.
    â€œNothing bad. There’s a couple off the stagecoach, and they want to buy Miz Adams’s store. She wants to bring them here to eat. Do you have anything left?”
    â€œPraise the Lord,” Bitsy shouted. “Augie! You hear that?”
    Augie poked his shiny bald head out