Sixteen

Elmer Troll watched Harry and Harriet share a hymnal in church and wondered if they were sweet on one another. He’d never figured anyone would have an interest in the blacksmith. He raised his eyebrows toward his son, in silent question. Had Thaddeus noticed?

Anger stirred in Elmer’s heart as he considered that this newcomer to town might take over the smithy he’d always wanted for his son. Why, even as a boy, Thaddeus had loved the place. His father had long thought an apprenticeship might be arranged. But that was before the incident, for which no one had ever forgiven the lad, even after all these years.

Harriet had been quite young; Thaddeus just turned twelve, and was constantly haunting the smithy, watching the goings on. The truth of it all had not been clear to Elmer back then, but now he knew. Something wasn’t quite right in his boy’s head. He could not argue that point. In actuality, the fire attracted Thaddeus, not the trade. The hearth engrossed the boy. He stared into the flames and glowing coals for hours on end, mesmerized. Most didn’t notice he rarely watched the anvil, or any of the activity beyond the flames. Not until that fateful day did he reveal his singular fascination with fire.

As the embers slowly lost their blaze, the boy hurriedly, lest his passion disappear, stoked the fire carelessly, pumping the foot-operated bellows too hard and a spark set fire to Harriet’s hair. Her father had grabbed his daughter and doused her in water in ample time to prevent injury, but from that day forward, Thaddeus was unwelcome.

Elmer still steamed at how unforgiving the blacksmith had proven, banning Thaddeus from a place his boy loved. Later, when Harriet’s parents gone, he’d attempted once again to secure the smithy for his son. He even spread a rumor Thaddeus would wed Harriet. When Otis asked the woman if the rumor was true, everyone in town must have heard her shouted denials.

Elmer Troll had then set to work rousing opposition to the town having a lady blacksmith. He was certain if she were shunned by all in the town that Thaddeus would get his chance at the smithy after all. Elmer even played a role in bringing potential competitors to Two Bits, thinking if one of them drove the woman from the smithy, he’d somehow see to it his son took over the operation. He’d deal with running out the competitors later. But that strategy too had failed. More in the town admired Harriet than he’d expected. What was wrong with these folks, settling for a woman blacksmith when they might have had his son? Elmer seethed, ignoring the sermon.

After church, he suggested Thaddeus see what he could learn of the plans Harriet and Harry might have. The instructions were just to listen and report back. But then, Thaddeus was strange, and Elmer knew he rarely did as he was told.

~ * ~

Thaddeus, meandering along managed to listen in on Harry and Harriet as they strolled after church. He sensed affections flowing between the pair, and deduced they might well become hitched. The thought made his mind stray to the possibility they’d go off to live on Harry’s homestead, and leave the smithy for someone else. He planned to be that someone else. He wanted so much to stare into a fire, and that was what blacksmiths did, wasn’t it? It was his calling, he reasoned. He envisioned flames with delight, but only the real thing inspired him.

He made his way to Harriet’s home, following her and the newcomer, and heard the man invite her out to lunch. To his delight, they turned off the path to her house, and wandered toward the old graveyard. He let them go. He’d heard enough to know Harriet wouldn’t be home for a while. His heart raced in anticipation. His palm dampened as he fingered the pocketful of large sulfur matches he carried with him everywhere Now was his chance. He could burn down Harriet’s home, and no doubt, thereby prompt Harry to marry the woman sooner, taking her to live on his ranch. No married woman could stay running a business in town. He studied the house. He wanted the blaze to burn beautifully, and entertain him for as long as possible.

It had been too long a time since he’d burned anything down. A few farmers in the area had experienced unexplained fires in their barns. He knew some suspected he was behind them, but nobody had been able to prove it. He’d been careful. Nonetheless, he’d picked up on others’ discomfort whenever he showed up in town. He knew it was not his imagination that folks around there didn’t much care for him. He figured it was all Harriet’s fault. Her hair caught fire, and he was blamed. He’d not meant to do any harm, yet he’d never been treated the same since that awful day when he lost his dream of an apprenticeship.

Then he got really excited. Maybe the fire he set at Harriet’s would spread. Wouldn’t that be a sight? He could only hope and plan for a real conflagration. He studied the wind, relative to her house, considering which materials would take to the fire best. He was good at his art.

~ * ~

Elmer had a cautious notion his son might do something rash. Thaddeus’s twisted mind needed little excuse to enjoy his passion for fire. He should never had set him to the task of listening in on Harry and Harriet. He should have sent his son home and done that job himself. He saw the two new friends, her arm linked through his as they strolled, and no sign of Thaddeus at all. What was the boy up to?

No good, he was sure. Why, Elmer himself had been forced to rebuild the outhouse three times, because his young son had insisted on setting fire to it so he could watch the blaze. Elmer had tanned the boy’s hide, but to no avail, and now the boy was a man full-grown himself, and continued his strange ways. Maybe if he had the smithy, it would be enough. He’d hoped owning it might bring him around and make all the difference. It still might, if Thaddeus didn’t mess things up, but as he scanned the area, he saw his son scuttling along, ducking from building to building, on a secret mission, and suspected exactly what that might me.

Hastily, he followed Thad’s circuitous route through town and even as he approached, he could see the fire begin. He would not stand by and watch his son ruined once again. People were quick to cast aspersions, and this time Thaddeus would have earned denigration, so he leapt into action, shouting like an old-time town crier: “Fire! Harriet’s house is on fire. Get buckets.”

~ * ~

“Buckets! We need buckets!” The call echoed up and down the streets as people ran down the boardwalk, then someone dashed into Mabel’s, shouting. “Fire at Harriet’s house. Grab a bucket and help out.”

Harriet sprang to her feet, as did Harry. Wearing dress shoes slowed Harriet a bit, so she took them off and lit out like lightning, leaving Harry to try to keep up. When she arrived at the house, relief filled her. While smoke and steam still curled upward, the flames were already gone. A bit of damage had been done, but not too much.

Harriet picked up an unused bucket and doused the burnt areas. She wanted no ember burning out of sight, igniting again. She knew fire. It was that thought which inspired her next action. She studied all in attendance, spotting Elmer and then Thaddeus. Something about the younger man’s face spelled guilt. She caught Elmer’s eye, and looked at him hard, conveying her well founded suspicions. Elmer tried to look nonchalant, but she sensed he was anything but.

She elbowed her way to Elmer’s side and spoke in a low voice only he could hear. “You keep that son of yours off my property.” Her tone was even and stern. She glared at him. “If I ever see Thaddeus anywhere around here again, I promise I will make accusations loudly and publicly. You know full well no one around here will doubt your son’s hand in what happened here today.” Though Harriet had used a voice just louder than a whisper so as not to be heard by others, Elmer still put up a low-voice protest.

“Are you suggesting my son set the fire? That’s outrageous. How dare you make such an accusation? I should report you to the law.”

“But you won’t,” Harriet said. “You know as well as I do creating such a scene would accomplish little but give the entire town a reminder of how they feel about your son. Everyone dreads his arrival to town each Sunday. I see it in their faces—even the parson can’t hide it. And as you may have noticed, I did not make any public accusation. I spoke privately, to you and you alone. I want you to keep your son off my property. That is my right.”

Harriet knew he didn’t like it—she read resentment in his face. But there wasn’t much he could say because they both knew the truth of it, as did others, many of whom witnessed her quiet discussion with him. Few would not guess what had happened. Once they’d had some time to talk about it, then everyone would know.

Her gaze caught Mabel’s. Her mother’s friend shifted her eyes toward Thaddeus and back to Harriet. She’d already figured it out.

Harriet saw the alarm in Elmer’s eyes—alongside genuine hatred. She’d never quite understood why he despised her, his son’s victim when she was a small child, and now victimized again this day. Wasn’t that the wrong way around?

“I’ll keep him away from you,” Elmer promised.

“You see that you do.”

Mabel saw her chance. She stomped right up to Elmer. “You keep your boy out of this town. You hear me?”

“I will. We’ll go to church, but that’s all.”

“It better be,” Mabel hissed. “I’ve had one too many nightmares about Thaddeus. I want peaceful sleep, and I won’t have my friends’ daughter burned alive.”

Elmer was not about to admit anything, or wait for others to comment onto the events of that day. He grabbed Thaddeus’s arm and tugged him away.

Harry reached Harriet’s side. “What was that about?”

“There’s history,” Harriet said simply.

“Someone who likes to play with fire has it in for you?” Harry asked. Then the concern on his face cleared. “Mabel did mention something I didn't quite understand. We spoke after our second dinner together, just after you'd left.”

Harriet didn't much care for Mabel talking with Harry about her past and problems. But Two Bits being a small town, always had tongues wagging. “I’ve handled the situation. It’s best kept quiet for now.”

Harry studied the damage. “I can help fix this today.”

Mabel interjected, “But you two didn’t even have time to finish your lunch. Tell you what. I’ll get things wrapped up and sent over. I know neither of you will be able to sit down for a moment until you’ve put Harriet’s place right.”

“Thanks, Mabel,” Harriet replied. “I would like to get this in shape before nightfall. Harry, you need not stay. You have your own work to do.”

“Nothing would take me away from helping you out here today. Together, we can finish with lots of light to spare for me to get back to my homestead. Besides, Howler is here and he’s the only one that would miss me back at camp.”

Harriet wanted to accept the kind offer, though she again protested. “But you have your new suit on and it would be ruined. I really can manage things here.”

“I’m sure you could. But I want to help, and I’m betting you have something of your father’s that will do me just fine for working alongside you on these repairs.”

She smiled at the suggestion. “You’re right about that. Though you’re broader across the shoulders than he was, and a bit taller, which could be a problem. Let me do some checking, and we’ll find out. If something does work, then we can both get into sensible clothes and tackle the job. I do appreciate your offer. It would go a might faster with the two of us.”

~ * ~

Harry was pleased she’d noticed his shoulders. It was one of his better attributes. As Harriet disappeared inside, he made some estimates of what they might need to shore things up. He knocked on the door and poked his head inside. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to see Otis for the supplies we’ll need.”

“Okay,” she shouted back. “I’ll settle up with you later.”

Harry found Otis, who was kind enough to open his shop so he could get what they’d need. Harry’s plan was to make the repairs so well no one would be able to even see a sign of the fire by the time he’d finished.

Otis gestured toward his attire. “Don’t go ruining your new suit of clothes,” he advised. Then he smirked, “Though I am always open for business if you do.”

“Seems Harriet has some of her father’s things that should work for me. If not, I’ll be back.”

The storekeeper chuckled. “You’ll find me on the back porch if you need something else. This is Sunday, and I usually don’t do much out of the store. It’s not proper.”

Harry reached into his pocket and Otis stopped him. “Nope. I’m not taking your money today. Just tell Harriet she can settle up sometime next week. I’ll keep track, but that’s all.”

“I’ll let her know. Sure was fortunate someone spotted the flames. You know who did?” Otis always knew everything.

“I’m pretty certain Elmer Troll did,” Otis ventured. Then something came into his eyes, like a spark of recognition as to what had happened. “Oh my,” he muttered.

“What?”

Otis seemed reluctant to say more. Probably because it was a Sunday, the man was reluctant to gossip. Harry knew full well this man liked little better than talking. He’d witnessed as much at the barn raising. Why, Otis seemed to be nonstop in telling stories. The question was how to get him started today. Harry guessed if he just waited a spell in silence, the man would be unable to resist telling his tale. Wanted to have the gaps in Mabel's account filled in. Harry hadn't been in Two Bits long, but already knew Otis was none too fond of quiet. It wasn’t really much of a gamble and Harry figured it would be well worth the wait. He was not disappointed.

“Let’s just say there’s a bit of a history between Harriet and the Trolls. Why, Elmer spread a rumor, just after her pa died, that she and Thaddeus were going to be married.”

“You don’t say,” Harry mumbled with some displeasure. “Any truth to that?”

“None at all. As soon as I mentioned the rumor to Harriet, you should have heard her shouting denials. Why the whole town heard her.”

Harry laughed at the imagery of his words. “But why spread such a rumor?”

“Elmer has been trying to get his son into that smithy since he was just a lad. But when the boy caught Harriet’s hair afire that was the end of that. Harriet was just a little one when it happened. Her father banned Thaddeus then and there from ever entering the place. Seems Elmer had wanted his son to apprentice there. Turned out the boy had problems. What do you call them, firebugs?”

“You mean he likes to see things burn? I’ve run across someone like that before. Those kind cause real trouble. They’re a dangerous sort. I’ll bet he enjoys just staring into the fire,” Harry said slowly, only then realizing the man had intentionally set fire to his beloved’s house. “But why pick on Harriet today?”

“I imagine he saw the two of you sharing a hymnal and is counting on Harriet giving up the smithy. I’m betting Thaddeus figured burning down her house would speed her move to your place. Just guessing now, but he’s a strange one. He and his pa both are. They don’t keep up like I do. Don’t know the two of you are just friends.” He peered up at Harry, no doubt hoping for more information.

But Harry was focused on the danger, and wanted to know the full threat. He’d just gotten a new barn and preferred it remain intact. “Has he burned other things around these parts?”

“Rumor has it a few barns have bit the dust, but no proof, mind you. None of us care to see him anywhere around us. We’ve been worried for years he’d set the town ablaze with us inside. Most of us have had nightmares. Mabel’s told me so a time or two. Not much we can do without catching him in the act. I think today was all about Elmer protecting Thaddeus. He probably spotted him setting the fire and sounded the alarm in time. Just a lucky break.”

“Some luck,” Harry muttered. “Thanks for the story. Harriet was tight-lipped about it all.”

“Always is, whereas, I always enjoy sharing a good story,” Otis replied sheepishly. “Sorry to spread such news on a Sunday. But I thought you ought to know, once I figured it out. I’ll bet others around here will start putting two and two together, too. It’s a shame Thaddeus wasn’t caught red-handed by someone else. Too bad.”

“Yep, too bad,” Harry agreed. Gathering up the supplies, he turned toward the door. “Thanks, Otis.”

“Pleasure doing business. You watch out for Harriet now.”

“I plan to do exactly that.”

When he’d returned, Harriet was outside the house, already changed into her work clothes. “What kept you?” she asked.

“Sorry. You know Otis.”

“He always has things to say,” she noted, seemingly amazed anyone could talk that much. “I’m afraid these were the best I could do. If they don’t work, I’ll handle the clean-up myself.”

Knowing she’d object to him going back to the store to buy workpants he already had at his homestead, Harry took what she offered. “Where can I change?”

Harriet led the way. This was his chance to see her tastes where she lived. He tried to memorize everything he saw as she showed him to one of the rooms. “Try the fit, and as I say, if they don’t work, I refuse to have you assist.”

Harry knew she meant it, so closed the door and hastened to try what she’d provided. The shirt wouldn’t fit his shoulders. He’d rip the thing in two if he tried to work in such tight apparel. On the other hand, the overalls she’d offered would fit just about anyone. He put them on and stared down. The legs were short on him and looked pretty silly. But he’d never been vain, and there was no way he would leave Harriet to do the repairs by herself. Resigned he could do little to improve his presentation, he peered around the room and again made mental notes of her tastes. What colors did she favor?

Having learned what he could, he headed back outside to rejoin Harriet, already at work. She turned to look his way and spontaneously let out a raucous roar. “Why, you are some sight!”

“Some gratitude,” Harry complained. “The shirt would be too tight, and I didn’t want to rip it. I hope you don’t mind the skin under the overalls.”

~ * ~

“Don’t mind at all,” Harriet responded. While the sight of his legs beyond the bottom of the overalls had brought hilarity to her lips, she found his muscular shoulders, biceps, and chest an amazing sight. The man took her breath away. Her heart beat rapidly, and she had an unusual feeling deep inside. Forcing herself to look away, she moved to continue her labors.

Harry joined in beside her. They’d made a good deal of progress by the time someone from Mabel’s showed up with the rest of their meals and some lemonade.

“Good fit of clothes,” the boy with the food remarked, grinning, but a glare from Harry quickly erased the look.

Harriet took the scene in, more than mildly amused. Nobody could deny Harry looked mighty funny with his ankles totally bare below the high pant legs. Trying in vain not to laugh, she suggested, with a smirk, “Let’s take a break.”

“Sounds good,” Harry replied. “I’ve worked up an appetite.” When he sat down in the overalls, they rode up even further.

Harriet could not help but giggle at the sight.

“I’m not sure I much like being laughed at, particularly when I’m lending a neighborly hand.”

“Sorry,” Harriet apologized. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Fact is, I’m impressed how much larger you are than my pa. He was good sized, I can tell you.”

“As long as you’re impressed while you ridicule me, I’ll settle down and won’t object,” he promised.

They ate in silence, enjoying the effort Mabel had made to heat up what would have been wasted from their earlier meals. The lemonade was welcome.

“What’s that on your shoulder?” Harriet asked.

“Got shot.”

“How?”

“I was a bouncer in a saloon, and one of the little guys didn’t figure he had a chance without a gun. He fired as I was picking him up to escort him out of the joint. Didn’t feel too good, I can tell you that. No fun being shot.”

“I reckon it wouldn’t be.”

“Didn’t care for the job either. It was the second time a small guy pulled a gun. I don’t know what it is about the little ones, but they draw too fast against someone my size. Guess they find someone like me intimidating.”

Harriet nodded. “I would imagine there aren’t many like you. You’ve been shot twice?”

“Afraid so, but as I say, that job was a bad one—more the exception than the rule. I was happy to leave the place behind me.”

“I would imagine.” Harriet hardly believed her ears. Just because this man was planning to remove someone too rowdy from a saloon, he’d been shot not just once but twice. Harry had lived a hard life. Thank goodness he had healed. Curious, she asked, “Where’s the other bullet hole?”

He grinned. “I’ll have to know you better before I show you.”

She blushed, and it was his turn to laugh at her, then he said, “Tell me about Thaddeus.”

“Why? What have you heard?”

“Gossip, but I want to hear it from you. What’s the history between the two of you?”

“Not much to tell, really. When he was a boy he liked to hang around the smithy. He’d stare at that fire like he was in some sort of trance or something. One day I was playing too close when he stoked some embers going out, and the next thing I knew, fire was on my head and my pa had me in a bucket of water, headfirst. Pa always said that’s why I have frizzy hair.”

“I like your hair,” Harry objected. “It is the color of fire, though. Perhaps the color was sealed that day.”

“Maybe it was,” she agreed, laughing lightly.

“I take it you weren’t hurt,” Harry prodded.

“Not really, but my pa was furious and he banned the boy from the smithy. It was around that time stories flew about how Thaddeus kept burning down the outhouse where he lived, just to watch the fire. Can you imagine such a thing?”

“I can. Once, in my travels, I lived where a firebug in the area did a good amount of damage before he was run off. Hard to imagine having that sort as a neighbor.”

“Not a good neighbor,” Harriet opined. “He’s always been dreaded by the townsfolk. I think the farmers and ranchers face the greater danger.”

“Until today, maybe. You figure he set fire to your place today,” Harry said the obvious.

“I do, though I can’t prove it. I had a few words with Elmer. The man hates me. His son set fire to my hair and somehow I’m to blame. How come, I ask you?”

“No reason applies when it comes to family protecting family. At least, I’ve seen similar attitudes in my days on the road. People don’t seem to take blame for what they or loved ones do. No explaining it, but believe me, Elmer wouldn’t be the first to blame others for his son’s problems.”

“I guess not. Still, I find it mighty infuriating,” Harriet confessed. “I don’t mind if people dislike me, but it bothers me to see hatred. When I look into Elmer’s eyes, I can see his contempt. It chills me to the bone.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Hate is a mighty powerful and dangerous emotion,” Harry said. “But is that all between the two families—your being dunked in water after an ember caught fire?”

“You mean it’s not enough I might have burned alive?” Harriet questioned sarcastically.

“It’s enough, but a good number of years have passed since then.”

“True,” she mused. “When my folks were gone and I was struggling to keep the smithy, Elmer did everything he could to claim the place for his son. Why, he even spread some cock and bull story about Thaddeus and me getting married. I can tell you, I was livid when Otis told me. It was then that Mr. Troll brought a bunch of prospective competitors into town. If I didn’t have friends here, my smithy would not have survived,” she confided.

“His plan was to sabotage your business and effectively claim it for his son? He likely had plans to get rid of any competitor who might have actually made the error of setting up shop.”

“I suppose.”

“No need to fret. You survived.”

“That I did,” she responded, a lightening of her mood apparent. Folks around here now accepted her, though it had been a difficult road. “I’m proud to have succeeded. Some in the town helped Elmer try to attract another smith to take over the shop, but I refused to let it go. Once the ardent dissenters to having a woman’s business so central to the town quieted down, they discovered I posed no real problem. My only interest is in being a successful blacksmith.”

“Who dissented?”

“Otis was among those who didn’t take to a woman blacksmith.”

“Seems to have changed his mind.”

~ * ~

Her lips curled into a pretty smile. “Nice to know some things change.”

Harry thought about how he’d like to change her “only interest” to include some regard for him. But he held his tongue.

As they labored side by side, Harry felt a sort of magic. He loved her scent, and the way her muscles worked effortlessly. She never complained and was one of the first partners who easily kept up with him. He gave silent praise for his good fortune in breaking that axle. Funny how you could misread what happened in life. Twists and turns were strange in how things worked out.

Close to the end of the repair job, Harriet squeezed past him. “Excuse me. I’ll need to fetch the ladder to get at that.” Following her gesture, Harry saw that just out of her reach, the flames had lapped enough smoke to leave a stain. All it needed was a lick of paint. “We won’t need a ladder for that bit. I can lift you while you touch it up.”

Harriet looked his way doubtfully. “I don’t mind getting the ladder.”

“After laughing at the way I look, the least you can do is humor me a bit and give me a chance to demonstrate my muscles,” he chided. “Now dip that brush in and come along.”

Harry watched her prepare the brush, anticipating the pleasure he was about to feel. He had an excuse to hold her, and he’d not miss such an opportunity to have her body close—properly, of course.

She came and stood uneasily in front of him. He placed his hands around her waist and, with ease, lifted her high.

She brushed the spot then told him to put her down.

“Give it two coats,” he urged, not wanting to release her quite so soon. He was enjoying the view and the sensation, but all too soon, he had no more excuse for holding her. Reluctantly, carefully, Harry lowered her, set her back on her feet, and took his hands from her waist. “You did a nice job. I told you no ladder was needed.”

“You were right,” Harriet conceded. “Though getting the ladder wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“I thank you for giving me a chance to show off my special strength. I deserved, and I appreciate it, given the humiliation I’ve suffered with my attire,” Harry quipped.

Harriet blushed. “I didn’t intend for you to lift me instead, honestly.”

Harry broke out in laughter. “I know. I’m just joshing you, Harriet. It was all my idea. Just the same, I enjoyed the chance to show off for you.”

“I thought I was strong,” Harriet murmured.

“And you are. But something has to come from all the labor I’ve done through the years. I may not have handsome looks, but I have well-toned muscles.”

~ * ~

“You look just fine to me, Harry,” she blurted out, then felt the warmth of her cheeks again—no doubt turning crimson.

“Why, thank you, Harriet.” He smiled widely so she decided it best not to retract her involuntary blurt, which she attributed to the excitement she still felt from their physical connection. She hadn’t floated in the air like that since early childhood when her father had lifted her. But the sensation of Harry’s touch bore no resemblance to the feelings her father’s playfulness had elicited.

When he lowered her to the ground, his arms glistened, powerful and tantalizing, and suddenly she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and ask him to hold her once again. That was just plain silly. She pushed such thoughts away and set back to work, side by side with this increasingly amazing man. They finished the job in record time.

“I do believe the place looks better than it did,” Harriet announced as they inspected the results of their toil.

“That was the idea. You have a real nice place here, Harriet.”

“Credit goes to my ma and pa, though I always helped.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I want you to know I’ve worked with a lot of men in my days and none of them were as able a partner as you.”

Harriet was unsure what to say. Happiness filled her. For the first time, she’d met a man who didn’t resent her strength and skills. Now, as she looked into Harry’s eyes, she noticed a sparkle and tenderness in expression. She hoped both were meant for her, but she had little experience in reading such signs. So she said nothing. She busied herself with the cleanup.

He joined in, and offered to drop off the extras to Otis.

“No need, as I have to settle up with him tomorrow. It will be easier to do it all at once. I’d rather not bother him again on a Sunday.”

“Fair enough.”

“I suspect you’d like to change back into something presentable now,” Harriet said. “Don’t suppose you want too many to see you looking like that.” She tried hard not to laugh, but couldn’t control a small smirk.

“Go ahead. Laugh. You look ready to burst,” Harry goaded.

So she did. “Thanks. I might just have exploded trying to keep it in. You know, when I look at your feet, I can’t help but think of the distance from those overalls to your ankles as a sort of horse stocking leading to the hooves.”

“Since you adore horses, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Harry replied, grinning. “Now may I go in and take away your comedy?”

“I suppose,” she said, acting crestfallen.

~ * ~

Harry went to the same room and changed, rechecking his observations on details of her home. She liked bright colors. He’d remember that as he worked on what he hoped would become their home.

Back outside, he bade her farewell, then took time to stop by the sheriff’s office. The man was not inside but a deputy was outside the place, leaning back in a chair on the boarded walk, whittling a piece of wood. “What is it I can do for you, Harry?”

“Wonder if you could direct me to Elmer Troll’s place.”

“Now why would you want to go out there? Those two are mighty strange. I steer clear of them,” the deputy confessed. “By the way, my name’s Charlie.”

“Pleased to meet you, Charlie,” Harry replied, taking the man in. He was young and handsome—everything he, himself, was not. Thankfully, Harry had never minded his own looks. Harriet didn’t seem to mind them either. She had noticed his shoulders. He had things to offer. He couldn’t help but savor the possibilities of the future.

Charlie continued to stare questioningly at him, so Harry fibbed, “I understand the Trolls have a spread, and they weren’t at the barn raising. I had a bit of time and figured it might be neighborly to drop in and meet them properly.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it. You don’t want to be neighborly to them sort.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thaddeus Troll just ain’t right in the head. His pa tries to keep him in line. But I reckon his son’s responsible for some unexplained fires.” Then the young man paused, clearly beginning to put two and two together, just as Otis had earlier. “Why, I’ll be.”

The deputy narrowed his eyes and sat erect. “You don’t plan to be neighborly out there at the Trolls, now do you?” he challenged.

“I plan to have a word with the pair. I’ve been working at shoring up

Harriet’s home, but I don’t want to have to do it again, or see her suffer something worse. It’s not just Harriet at risk, you know.”

“I do know, but fact is, Harriet can take care of herself. You heard about the prisoner she brought to our sheriff a bit ago, right?”

“Nope,” Harry admitted, wondering how he might have missed such news.

“That’s Harriet, always close-mouthed,” Charlie mumbled. “I’ve heard of demure women, reserved in speech, but her modesty beats all.”

“Who was the prisoner?”

“She said it was one of that gang you and she caught by your wagon. Seems he managed to break out of prison and looked her up. Had a mean streak and wanted to get even for what she’d done to his cheek and his foot.”

At the mental image of the man, Harry’s anger welled but he managed to contain it. “What happened?” He didn’t want Charlie to know how he seethed inside—he might not discover what had happened. He calmed himself with the reminder Harriet was obviously all right. But he still wanted to learn the full story.

“From what Sheriff West told me, the man was waiting at the smithy the night of your barn raising. Mr. Featherbee, the gambler showed up with that striking horse of his and distracted the outlaw just long enough for Harriet to wield a pitchfork. Apparently the gambler pulled out something he promised would put a hole in the man if he didn’t do as Harriet said. They marched the visitor right up to the sheriff’s office. Sheriff West sure got a kick out of the sight of Harriet prodding the varmint along with that pitchfork. Not surprised you didn’t hear about it, though. Like I said Harriet never says much.” Charlie shook his head. “Mighty peculiar woman.”

“So where’s that outlaw now?”

“Sheriff locked him up and then arranged to get him back to prison. That’s about the size of it. Oh, another bounty was on his head. Harriet said to give it to Mr. Featherbee, as he’d distracted the intruder at the right time. Seems the gambler wouldn’t take it. I think the sheriff is holding onto it for now. He’ll likely have another word with Harriet on the matter.”

“Sure glad nobody got hurt. Guess I’ll have to look up this gambler and thank him.”

“I don’t think he did much. That’s probably why he refused the bounty. I mean a man like that could surely use the stake.”

Harry scowled. “It’s all my fault the jailbird tracked down Harriet. If she hadn’t helped me with the wagon, she’d never have met up with that sort of vermin.”

Charlie peered at Harry. “Now, how can you blame yourself for bad people in the world? Harriet’s the blacksmith, and who else could have fixed your wagon?”

“Nobody,” Harry admitted. “No one could have done what she did.”

“It’s not Harriet you have to worry about with the Trolls. She has mighty good instincts. I think she could handle most anything comes her way. But I’m telling you, many of us here in town feel unsafe in our beds with Thaddeus on the loose. I’ve told our sheriff we ought to lock him up.”

“But you can’t because you lack the evidence,” Harry completed the point.

“That’s about the size of it. He’d be pretty mad at me if he knew I was jawing like this with you. We have nothing on Thaddeus that sticks, mind you.”

“I understand. But I am going to speak to the men.”

“Nothing against the law about that,” Charlie declared, evidently pleased at Harry’s mission. “But whenever you go on another man’s property, he can claim trespassing. You know they might be dangerous. You’re big, but it could get nasty. They’ll have a pretty good idea why you’re showing up today of all days. I’d give it a spell if I were you.”

After the deputy drew a map with a stick in the dirt, Harry, his faithful dog loping along beside the horse, rode off to see the Trolls. Maybe they wouldn’t welcome his visit, but then he didn’t plan to be cordial either. He had his rifle in his saddle and at the ready. Never did know when you’d come across game. He didn’t plan violence, but he was ready if the pair caused trouble.

As he rode, he thought about Harriet and imagined her forcing the critter to the sheriff, a pitchfork at his back. He chuckled. That must have been some sight. For a moment, he wondered why the man had not sought him out instead of her, but recalled she was the one who had scarred for life, the one who’d shamed him. He and his gang, bested by a woman had to be angry and bitter, wanting revenge.

It upset Harry that he hadn’t been there to help her out on that occasion, but he planned to do something about the pair bringing her grief now. The Trolls had to understand they’d have him to deal with if Harriet had any more trouble.

When he rode up to the house, Thaddeus and Elmer stepped outside the door. “What do you want?” Elmer boomed.

“I’ve heard about your son’s history with the smithy.”

“What of it?”

“I’m figuring one of you two set fire to Harriet’s house.”

“I’m the one who sounded the alarm and helped save her place,” Elmer boasted. “You need to pay better attention, mister.”

“Oh, I don’t miss much and seems your boy there is the prime suspect for a lot of unexplained fires in these parts.”

“They blame him for everything. Just because when he was a youngster stoking a fire, he accidentally popped out an ember that caught Harriet’s hair afire, everyone calls him strange. They’re the strange ones for being so unforgiving,” Elmer protested.

Harry saw a sneering smirk curl Thaddeus’s mouth. “Seems your son there sees something funny in your words, Elmer. I guess he thought it was hilarious burning your outhouse down. How many times was it?”

Elmer glowered. “You sure know a lot for a newcomer to these parts.”

“I have traveled a good deal. Last firebug I ran across killed people, not just livestock. It does more than damage buildings. Have you thought about what might happen if Thaddeus decided to set your house afire while you were sleeping?”

A dark cloud passed over the older man’s face and fear flickered in his eyes. Harry suspected Elmer had worried about that more than a time or two.

“Pa!” Thaddeus spoke for the first time since Harry’s arrival. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“That’s what the other firebug said, before he managed to kill off his entire family. Only then was he run out of town. No doubt, he became a plague on someone else.”

Now Elmer looked disturbed, seemingly unable to speak. He just glared.

Harry kept his tone low, but menacing. “I’m here to tell you if I ever see Thaddeus on my property or on Harriet’s, I plan to shoot to kill. I’ll not have him doing us harm.”

Elmer took a threatening step forward. “You’ll have to deal with the law if you shoot my boy.”

“I’ve warned you. I’ll consider him a trespasser. You’re now on notice, all legal like.”

“What’s to keep us from shooting you, right here and now?” Thaddeus spoke up. “If he’s going to shoot me if I go on his land, or Harriet’s, why don’t you shoot him? Right now, he’s trespassing.”

Elmer snarled at his son. “You shut up. We don’t shoot people for coming to speak with us. Even if the message is unwelcome.” Then he turned back to Harry. “You’ve had your say. Now get off our land and stay off.”

“I’m advising you, Elmer, to pack up and move out of here with your Thaddeus. Find a place in the middle of nowhere and build your house from stone or bricks—something less likely to burn. Spend your days with your boy, protecting others from what you have there. You’re obligated to keep your neighbors safe from him. You know he’s not right in the head.”

With that, Harry turned his horse and started to ride away, but a rock smacked him in the back. That was all the excuse Howler needed. Harry had never seen a dog move so quickly. Thaddeus yelped in pain and Harry ordered, “Howler. Here.” The dog obeyed, but with bared teeth, as he backed up from the young man who stood holding his bleeding wrist.

“Shouldn’t go flinging rocks at a man’s back,” Harry scolded. “Particularly one with a wild dog like Howler.” He reached down from his horse and scratched his companion behind his ears. “Good boy, Howler.” Then looking up at Elmer, he met the man’s eyes. “Think about what I told you. This region knows about your son. It’s just a matter of time before someone catches him red-handed or chooses to do as I plan. Do something about it. Take heed.”

Then he left, but no more rocks followed him, only the sound of Thaddeus’s whimper over the dog bite. Harry enjoyed that. Howler had avenged Harriet for the man’s actions. Maybe the Trolls would move on. If not, they’d at least steer clear of him and Harriet. Of that he was pretty certain.