The Blacksmith’s Bravery by Susan Page Davis Page B

folks wonder why the widow took in a boy as her boarder?”
    â€œMaybe so.” Bill spit off to the side of the steps. “You got any ideas?”
    â€œWell, I’m not sleeping in the same room with you.”
    He pulled back, frowning. “Didn’t mean to suggest you should.”
    â€œThen let’s get in there and ask for two rooms.”
    He threw his hands in the air, managing to keep hold of his whip as he did so. “Fine with me, Georgie. Come on.”

CHAPTER 7
    G riffin kept in his anger all the way to the hotel. What right did this upstart boy have to tell him what he was and wasn’t going to do? Evelyn had sent him here to get straightened out. Well, Griffin didn’t know much about parenting, and he’d be the first to admit it. But he knew about hard work. Hard labor had made a man of him, and he figured it could do the same for Justin. But what if the boy wouldn’t work? He couldn’t force him to do it.
    He had a mind to wire Evelyn and tell her he was sending the boy back. But that wouldn’t solve any of the problems that had traveled across the country with his nephew. He’d have to give it some thought. Calm down, that was it. Keep from getting mad and saying things he’d regret later.
    â€œWhen did you eat last?” he asked as he pushed open the door to the Pacifica Hotel.
    â€œI had breakfast.”
    â€œBreakfast? What about dinner?”
    Justin shrugged. “Some folks bought dinner where we stopped last.”
    â€œWhat? You didn’t have any money?” Griffin eyed him closely. The boy shrugged and squinted his eyes.
    â€œWell, we’re going to have us a whopping big supper, I’ll tell you that.” Griffin tromped to the desk. “We’d like a room, my nephew and me.”
    â€œYes, sir.” The clerk turned the guest registry toward him. “Signhere, please. That’ll be a dollar.”
    â€œThank you. And we’d like supper as soon as possible.”
    â€œOur dining room opens at four thirty for early diners.”
    â€œCan’t get nothing now?”
    â€œNo, sir. Unless you go into the bar, but your nephew looks a bit young for that. If the marshal came along while you were in there, I couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t face charges.”
    Griffin looked over at Justin. “How old are you?”
    Justin hesitated. “Seventeen?”
    â€œI doubt it.”
    The boy hung his head and muttered, “Fifteen and a half.”
    â€œRight. We’ll go down the street and find a place where we can get something to tide us over ’til supper. Let’s go put our kit in the room first.”
    They found a boardinghouse down the street, and the proprietor was willing to heat up some leftovers for them. A bowl of beef stew and a brace of biscuits went down quickly. Griffin considered ordering a refill, but decided it would benefit the boy more to have a small meal now and another later, rather than to stuff himself.
    â€œHow about apple pandowdy?” the woman who had served them asked.
    â€œSurely.” Griffin looked over at Justin. “You could do with a dish of that, couldn’t you?”
    â€œI guess.”
    Griffin scowled. “That’s no way to answer. You say, ‘Yes, sir.’”
    â€œAll right, yes, sir. I’d like coffee with it, if it’s all the same to you.”
    Shouldn’t boys drink milk? Griff tried to remember back when he was fifteen on the farm. He’d drunk a lot of milk. But somewhere in there, he’d started drinking coffee with his father, too. “All right.” He looked up at the woman. “Another cup of coffee, please.”
    When she’d gone, Justin said, “How far is it to Fergus?”
    â€œAbout forty miles. We’ll get there tomorrow afternoon.”
    â€œMa said you’ve got a smithy and a livery stable.”
    â€œYes, and this past year I’ve been running