The Blacksmith: Vengeance Trail

By Bryan A. Salisbury

Deciding to stay in the town of MacIntyre was a natural decision for Blake Thorton to make. In a short time he had made both friends and enemies … fast. In this exciting sequel to The Blacksmith, Blake Thorton rides again to confront an adversary he didn't know he had.

In Vengeance Trail, Blake's story continues, with his feisty new bride, Chrissy, by his side. Content with his life, he became plagued by the secret he kept from her. Finally bowing to his conscience, Blake revealed it and inadvertently threw his quiet life into chaos.

Now in the fight of his life, Blake must rely on his friends, his guts and his determination to save what he values most in the world. The fire that rages inside him spreads to his iron-willed compadres as they match wits with the desperate outsiders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543986648

Book preview

Epilogue

Prologue

Fireworks erupted in Chrissy Thorton’s head from the backhanded slap Thaddeus Bainbridge gave her. Her knees buckled as she slipped to the floor. Chrissy lifted the back of her hand to her face where she could feel the wet blood from her split lip.

Oh, Mr. Bainbridge, she said slowly with a smirk. You have no idea the hell you have just unleashed upon yourself.

Bainbridge stood over Chrissy, his fists clenched.

Mrs. Thornton, he sneered. I grow weary of these surroundings and my circumstances. To what hell are you referring to?

Chrissy stood, feeling the baby moving inside her as she steadied herself against the pain and stifling heat of another unbearable summer afternoon.

You kidnapped us but you have treated Marie and I with dignity to this point, she stated in a controlled voice. But now, you black-hearted bastard, you have caused me injury. My husband may have let you live before, but now you will feel the full measure of his anger.

Crandall, who was sitting in the back corner of the cabin with his feet propped on a table, took a sip of whiskey and snorted, Blake Thorton ain’t no different from any of us. He’s just a man.

Bainbridge shot Crandall an evil look and then turned back to Chrissy.

Precisely as my friend stated, I have ten men at my disposal and we are well hidden. Even if he could find us I doubt that I will ever see him.

Suddenly a bloodcurdling shriek was heard from outside and the air filled with gunfire and war screams. Bainbridge felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and a chill ran through his blood. He glanced at Crandall who was already rising, his hand on his pistol. The door of the cabin erupted into splinters and through it strode hell personified.

Chapter 1

(A few months earlier)

Blake sat nervously in Doc Witherspoon’s office. He had his legs crossed and his foot was jiggling up and down.

Would you please settle down, I’m sure it’s nothing, Chrissy said.

It’s just that I’ve never seen you sick a day in your life, Blake replied.

Chrissy was Blake’s wife, and she was tall, blond and stunningly beautiful. She owned a café in the town of MacIntyre and was fiercely independent on account of having lost her first husband several years before. She proved to be quite a handful for Blake, yet they both felt the unconditional love they now shared would last forever.

I just wake up and I’m a little queasy, that’s all, she said to Blake matter-of-factly.

Doc Witherspoon came out of his small office and smiled kindly at them.

Good morning, he said. What brings you two into my office this fine day?

I’m just feeling a little off in the mornings lately and hoping it’s not the flu, said Chrissy. I don’t think it’s anything but my husband insisted on me coming to see you.

I just don’t want you getting sick on me. You have way too much work to do, Blake quipped, winking at the doctor.

Doc Witherspoon laughed. Well, we certainly can’t have that, can we? Chrissy, why don’t you come on back into the examining room and we’ll have a look.

Chrissy and Blake stood up. She turned to Blake and said, Darling, I’m not on death’s door. I’m sure I’m fine. Please go to the forge because you’re making me nervous and I promise I will come directly over after we’re done here.

Reluctantly, Blake agreed. All right, I’ll go, but only under protest.

Chrissy kissed him sweetly and ushered him out the door.

Blake slogged his way up the muddy street on the way to the forge. He was very concerned about his wife. He had never been so committed to anyone and would do anything for her. His only regret was that he kept a secret from her and it weighed heavily on him, more each day.

The winter had been a particularly hard one and now it was early March and there was coldness to the air. Shaking the thought about the secret he kept from Chrissy, Blake tightened up the collar around his neck and he waved to Joe Bergman, the owner of the livery next door to his forge. Morning, Joe, he called out. Chilly one today, huh?

It sure is, Joe smiled. Had to come outside for a spell. Avery is in there griping a lot, so I needed some peace and quiet. Avery was Joe’s hired man. He was short and skinny with bad teeth. But everyone in MacIntyre knew Avery looked much better than when he and his brother, Hap, tried to rob Blake out on the trail a year ago. Instead of having them tossed in jail, Blake had taken pity on the two of them, got them cleaned up, and found both of them jobs in town. Hap now worked contentedly in the mercantile and Avery, though a little less content, worked in the livery.

Blake laughed. I imagine he’d complain if you hung him with a gold rope. What’s the burr under his saddle today?

He bent over to pick something off the floor and I think your horse, Bull, nipped him on the ass. Joe burst out laughing. You would have thought Avery had gotten shot by a Comanche arrow.

God, I love that horse, Blake said grinning ear to ear. Tell him I’ll send him flowers.

Avery? Joe asked.

Nope, he smiled. Bull.

Joe turned to go back into the livery. Will do, he wheezed, barely able to contain himself.

Bull was what Blake named his horse, a shortened version of Buliwyf, a Viking king who Blake had read about when he was younger. He was not a tall horse, but was heavily muscled and strong boned. He could carry Blake’s 225-pound frame with no effort. Because of his blacksmith training, Blake had worked with horses most of his life and had never found one smarter or stronger-willed than Bull. Blake would die to save that horse because he was sure Bull would do the same for him.

Blake lifted the latch and stepped into his blacksmith shop. A friendly wave of warm air greeted him along with the smell of coal burning in the forge. Caleb was already working on making horseshoes.

Caleb was not Blake’s son but a person would never know by the way they acted toward each other. When Blake found Caleb, around the same time his path crossed with Hap and Avery, Caleb was skinny and dirty. He was sixteen or seventeen years old with no education and less prospects. His mother had been a soiled dove in the town and died of a venereal disease. That left Caleb alone and, because of his terrible stutter, there weren’t many options for him.

Blake thought he had just been passing through MacIntyre at the time, but circumstances led him to open the forge and train Caleb in the art of blacksmithing. To see Caleb a year ago, a person could scarcely tell it was the same young man working in the forge now.

Caleb had developed broad shoulders and a slim waist. Every muscle in his arms could be seen as he hammered on the orange hot metal. With his thick shock of blond hair and piercing blue eyes he was an Adonis to be sure. His skill as a smith was growing every day and Blake marveled at how quickly Caleb learned. Normally it took years to learn how to be a decent smith, but in twelve months, Blake was running out of new things to teach him. Blake remembered learning blacksmithing from his father, and being as hungry as Caleb was now. Only his hunger had turned him to adventure at sea. By the time he was twenty, Blake had run away from home, left blacksmithing behind and sailed to the South Pacific aboard a merchant ship, where he was shipwrecked, marooned and eventually rescued.

How’s Chrissy? Caleb asked, intruding on Blake’s reminiscing. Caleb’s stutter had all but vanished, the result of a hard year protecting his true love, Bonnie, from Tom, the abusive son of a local wealthy rancher, Ian MacIntyre. Tom was a rapist and a murderer who Blake and several townspeople had killed after he’d abused Bonnie one night.

She says she’s fine, Blake answered, removing his coat and hat. She told me that my hovering made her nervous, so I came to work. Doc said if it was anything serious, they would come for me.

I hope she’s all right, Caleb said, trying not to sound too concerned.

Blake took out his watch and sucked his teeth. Just wish I would hear something.

A man died who was in a hurry once, Caleb grinned. That was a phrase Blake used a lot. He said it made people slow down and relax.

No fair using my own words against me, Blake smiled back, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Now what are you working on?

Caleb showed Blake what he was doing and they fell right into a rhythm they had established working together. An hour had passed when the side door opened and Chrissy stepped in. Caleb saw her first and blurted out, What’d the Doc say?

Good morning to you, too, Caleb, she smiled sweetly at him.

Never mind that, Blake said sternly. What’d he say?

My goodness, you men can be so impatient, Chrissy laughed. Caleb, I just left the café and Bonnie says she has a new recipe that she’d like you to try.

Caleb took out his watch and said, But it’s over an hour to lunch.

My wife is trying to find a polite way to say, SCRAM, Blake said loudly.

Oh, I see, Caleb said looking embarrassed. He took off his leather apron and put on his hat and coat. Sorry Ma’am, I was worried.

She placed a hand on his cheek. There’s no need to, I’m fine. They smiled at each other and he stepped out into the cold.

All right, Blake said firmly. Tell me.

I think you should sit down.

Chrissy placed both her hands on his shoulders. Blake was 6’2" and weighed about a hundred pounds more than she did but when she touched him he had no strength. He stepped back and sat on the anvil.

This is bad, isn’t it? People always tell you to sit when it’s bad, he said apprehensively.

Depends on your point of view.

Doctors never have good news, they are always telling you something bad.

Sometimes it’s good, Chrissy mused.

Then it’s good? Blake looked hopefully.

Depends.

He was totally confused now. Dear sweet Mother of God, woman! Quit toying with me! he shouted and stood up.

Not until you’re calm, she said gently pushing him back down. Are you calm?

Drawing a deep breath he said, Yes.

Are you sure? With that he gave her a look that said stop playing around.

We’re going to have a baby. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking positively radiant.

Blake was an intelligent man but somehow the pieces in his mind weren’t falling into place. Really? was all he could reply.

Absolutely.

But….how?

Well, Mr. Thorton, Chrissy said cocking an eyebrow, you certainly seem to enjoy doing what it takes to make a baby.

It was starting to sink in now. It was a natural chain of events. Settle down, get married, make love, have babies, and yet the thought never occurred to him. He had a son when he was marooned with natives in the South Pacific, and it was a terribly difficult thing to leave his native wife and son behind … something that haunted him from time to time. Somehow in his mind he thought that was his last chance of having a family. But here today everything changed. Could he be a good father? What if he dropped it? Chrissy would know what to do. He began to grin and his grin got bigger and bigger.

Hello in there, Chrissy said trying to catch his gaze. Are you all right?

Blake found himself looking deeply into her eyes.

You just made me the happiest man on earth. As he rose he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up.

Really? she smiled through teary eyes.

Absolutely.

Chapter 2

In the weeks following, Blake could barely contain himself. He told anyone who would listen about his good fortune. There was a lot of backslapping and hand shaking.

Percival Feathers was probably the happiest for him. Percival was a giant of a man who used to be the bouncer at the local saloon called The Trails End and was considered to be very tough. One night, protecting Caleb’s love, Bonnie, from Tom MacIntyre, he had taken five bullets and lived to tell about it. Percival had married Michelle, a dove in the saloon. Both led a path of decent folk now. Michelle opened a flourishing dress shop and Percival, who most people referred to as Big Man, worked in the lumber mill. The two lived above the dress shop and Michelle was now in her eighth month of pregnancy. He had much to tell Blake about caring for a pregnant woman, good and bad, but could not explain her constant desire for fried eggs and pickles.

Sadie, who was Blake’s housekeeper and took on a motherly role, wondered why they needed to have a doctor say that Chrissy was with child. She had seen it two weeks before they did. Sadie was a Negro woman who had been the former owner’s housekeeper and, when he died, the bank let her stay in the house to keep it up until it sold. When Blake purchased the house he kept Sadie on and she cared for Blake and Caleb.

About seventy years old, Sadie was portly and feisty, always keeping the house immaculate and hot food on the stove. When Blake married Chrissy there was some tension between the two women because Chrissy wanted to cook and clean for her husband and Caleb. They agreed, with Blake’s prompting, that if Sadie let Chrissy cook every so often, maybe she could help out down at the café that Chrissy owned, if she had spare time. Chrissy, who would normally not accept help from anybody, acquiesced and soon everyone got along very well.

Iver Johansson even shook Blake’s hand. He was a former Texas Ranger who took on the duties of sheriff in the town along with a deputy, Mike Ventosa. Johansson was in his late sixties, a confirmed bachelor, gristled and tough, and a diehard confederate. He and Blake didn’t get along at first because Blake served in the Union, but had gained mutual respect for each other when dealing with Tom MacIntyre. The only negative thing Johansson said about the baby was they didn’t need more Yankees running around. That made Blake smile and Ventosa roll his eyes.

One evening Blake was enjoying a drink and a cigar with Dan LaClare down at The Trails End. Dan was a professional gambler by trade, and when times were slow he took a job tending bar. He was handsome and well dressed and spoke with a slight southern accent. As he poured Blake another whiskey he noticed Blake had a faraway look in his eyes.

It would appear a man who seems to be on top of the world has more pressing matters troubling his mind, Dan drawled.

Blake snapped out of it and focused on Dan. Yeah, sorry, I do have something I could use some advice on.

How may I be of service, my friend? Dan replied smiling.

There is something about myself I’ve never told Chrissy, Blake started. And I’m not sure I should tell her or let it lie.

Good heavens, it has been my personal experience that secrets kept are never productive. It is why I remain unencumbered by female companionship. My secrets could fill many volumes, he chuckled.

I just don’t want things to change between us. Life is so good right now, I’m not sure I want to take the chance, Blake said swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Dan leaned against the bar on one elbow and was wiping out a glass. The enormity of this secret seems to weigh like a millstone around your neck, my friend. So I ask you this, are you truly happy if you carry this burden and do you have enough faith in your bride to accept whatever it may be?

Blake pondered that for a moment. Dammit if it’s going to change things I want to know, and she deserves to know, he finished his drink and stood up. Dan, you have been a tremendous help, he said and stuck out his hand.

Dan shook it and grinned. I enjoy nothing more than to offer advice I would never heed myself.

Blake left the saloon with a purpose in his stride, he had work to do. He would tell Chrissy, but he would do it in style.

Chapter 3

The next morning Blake woke up first and turned to watch Chrissy sleeping peacefully next to him. He could hear Sadie busily working in the kitchen below and Caleb getting dressed for the day in his room. Blake brushed an errant curl away from Chrissy’s face and said softly in a teasing voice, Just because you are with child doesn’t mean you get to sleep till noon every day.

Without opening her eyes she softly cooed back, If you could control your masculine urges, I wouldn’t be in this condition.

I believe you forced yourself on me, Blake smiled trying to sound wounded.

Chrissy stretched and smiled back at him. I forgot that you’re a helpless child with no free will. Now fetch me my robe, boy.

Boy is it now? he laughed reaching under the covers and tickling her.

Stop that you big fool, she giggled. He persisted and she fended him off. Please, stop, you’re going to make me wet the bed.

Well, goodness knows we can’t have that, he laughed and got out of bed. This was always Chrissy’s favorite time of day. She watched him as he rose and stretched. His broad back and muscular arms rippled and flexed only to be made more pronounced by the tattoos he had. He received the tattoos when he was stranded in the South Pacific and was indoctrinated into a native tribe. They were great swirling patterns that started just above his elbows, across his back and chest and down to just above his knees. They gave him a fierce appearance, along with his thick black wavy hair and his ruggedly handsome face, he was a sight to behold. He made his way over to a chair where her robe laid and picked it up holding it open. Your robe, ma’am.

She got up and slipped into it. Thank you, kind sir. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

When they arrived downstairs they were greeted by Sadie. I’s declare, you is lookin’ pretty today, Mrs. Thorton.

Thank you, Sadie, Chrissy replied sweetly. And good morning to you, Caleb.

Mmmmfff, was all Caleb could muster around all the hotcakes stuffed into his mouth.

Damn, boy, I’ve seen starving wolves eat slower than you, Blake said pouring himself some coffee. I may be going to take a ride to Sweetwater today, he said addressing the room. There’s a new piece of equipment they use for blacksmithing and I want to take a look at it.

You haven’t mentioned that before, Chrissy stated. Why so sudden?

I guess it just slipped my mind, Blake replied. Besides the weather looks to be fair today and Bull looks bored.

Caleb gulped down the last of his mouthful and asked excitedly, Can I go?

Blake hadn’t expected that and looked uncomfortable. Chrissy knew how a man could get. Sometimes they just needed to be alone, especially a man like her husband. When they are alone they sort things out in their mind, and if you held them too tightly it would bottle up in their head and make them irritable. Making a joke of it she said, He probably wants to tell his horse about the baby, and we all know his strange connection to that animal. Caleb nodded his head and stared down at his plate. How about I have Bonnie make you a peach cobbler for lunch? Chrissy asked.

I’ll take you next time, son, Blake added.

If there’s peach cobbler involved, you’re on your own, Caleb said smiling.

Will you be back for supper, dear? Chrissy asked.

I can try but Bull may be pretty upset, Blake smirked. Come on, I’ll walk you to the café.

But you ain’t et breakfast yet, Sadie objected.

Blake put a handful of bacon between two hotcakes and took a bite. How’s that? he asked.

Sadie rolled her eyes and Chrissy added, shaking her head, I always wanted to marry a man with class.

After he dropped Chrissy off at the café, Blake headed over to the doctor’s house. He entered the small office and found him sitting at his desk. What can I do for you, Blake? he asked rising and shaking Blake’s hand.

I was wondering, Blake started. Can Chrissy travel?

Oh, sure, just as long as it isn’t too rough. The morning sickness should pass soon and then it’s just waiting. How far are you going?

I’m thinking of taking a train to New York.

It would be best if you had a berth so she could lie down if she needs to, Doc Witherspoon said.

I was thinking of a private car.

Better yet, but they can be awful expensive you know.

Yup, Blake replied. She’s worth it. Blake turned to leave the office and looked at the doctor. It’s a surprise, Doc. Can we keep this between us?

Mums the word, he answered smiling.

Blake left and headed for the bank. After withdrawing some money he headed to the livery to saddle Bull. Avery complained to him that Bull left a sizable bruise on his backside and he should be taught some manners. Blake promised to talk with him about it. Avery suggested an axe handle would work better, to which Bull blew his nose on the back of Avery’s neck. He left the barn in a tirade wiping his neck with a filthy bandana. Blake laughed and asked Bull, Now was that very nice? Bull shook his head up and down as if to say, Absolutely.

After stopping by the forge to check on Caleb, Blake and Bull headed out of town at a slow canter. The day was cool and he needed a jacket but could feel the warmth of the sun slowly working its way in and it felt great. Up ahead about a mile out was a wagon sitting on the side of the road. It was tilted at a hard angle because one of the wheels had fallen off. It wasn’t a big wagon but it was loaded down with a lot of furniture and household goods.