Blacksmith Brides

by Amanda Barratt

  “That is your name, isn’t it? Thomas Flynn?”

  He blinked to clear his vision from the haze of memory. “How did you know?”

  Esther turned away, and dishes clanked into the washbasin. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “No one calls me that anymore.”

  She glanced at him, head cocked. “Not even your friends?”

  “I have work, not friends.”

  Charlie tugged on his shirt. “I your friend.”

  Flynn lowered back to the chair. “You’re right, of course.” He squeezed Charlie’s shoulder but choked on the lump in his throat.

  “I’d like to be your friend too,” Esther whispered. “If I may … Thomas.”

  He held her gaze, soaking in its warmth despite the warning blaring like a train whistle in his head. What good was her friendship when her father had warned him against letting her near him? He would destroy her reputation and both their futures. “I can’t,” he heard himself say.

  “Why not? Wasn’t it you who first offered?”

  “I did, but things were different.” His legs protested, but he stood again and moved around Charlie. He stepped to Esther as she turned to him. Toe to toe yet again. How beautiful she looked with her cheeks pink and brown eyes flaring with her son’s stubbornness. He touched her arm to direct her away, but the motion didn’t follow.

  “How was it so different a couple of weeks ago? Because I was the one in distress and not you?”

  “I’m fine,” he murmured. But he wasn’t. He was about to do exactly what his father had—push away someone he loved for their own good as well as his own.

  One more mouth he couldn’t feed.

  No choice but to walk away.

  Flynn pulled his hand back and set his jaw, again seeing his da in the stance he took, the firmness of his resolve. “I am grateful for your offer, and for all you have done, but I need you to leave. You and Charlie need to go home.”

  “Thomas—”

  “Please, don’t come back.”

  Chapter 12

  Weeks crawled by, a strange sort of limbo. Tensions were building across the states and in the Allerton home. Esther avoided her family as much as she could. Why even try to appease Julia? They had never been close, but now the gulf between them seemed uncrossable. And more the pity. Esther would have loved having a confidante to share her tousle of feelings with, to talk late into the night like girls about their latest infatuations. Maybe if she could voice her thoughts about a certain blacksmith, she’d make sense of them. Instead, she sat alone in the library long after the rest of the family retired for the night, trying to read while Thomas Flynn haunted her mind.

  “Forget him,” Esther murmured, the mantra she had taken up since he’d forced her to leave him half patched together, his home a mess. The man was enough to drive any woman insane. He offered her friendship, only to pull away when she was ready to accept. What had changed?

  Forget him!

  Easier said than done. She missed how easy she felt around him, how at home—more so than the one she shared with her father and sister.

  “You and Charlie need to go home.”

  If only she knew where that was.

  “You wanted to speak with me, Miss Esther?” Eli stepped into the library, candle in hand. Its light joined the lamp she had set on the decorative table at her side.

  “Yes. I have a question.”

  He slipped the door closed behind him and lowered his voice. “I haven’t seen Master Flynn since you sent me yesterday with the soup from Cook. He doesn’t want anything.”

  Esther cringed. “Anything from her,” had probably been Thomas’s choice of words. “That’s not what I wished to speak with you about.”

  “I think he’s just stuck on his pride. Doesn’t like you seeing him broken like he is.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t like needing help.”

  Esther stood, setting the newsprint aside. “But we all need help. We can’t get through this life on our own.” She knew better than most. Yet she had no choice but to do it alone. “I didn’t ask you here to discuss Mr. Flynn or his pride. I—” She motioned to the Washington Star. “President Lincoln has requested five hundred thousand men from Congress. They’re not going to back down and neither is the Confederation. This war isn’t going to have an easy resolution.” Like a flooded river, picking up speed and sweeping away everything in its path. “I can’t stay here any longer. Not pinched between the North and South, and with Charlie’s poor health.”

  Eli’s mouth opened, but a moment passed before sound followed. “Where will you go?”

  “Back to Boston. I still have the apartment there. Though I plan to sell it and find a cottage in the country. The city is no good for Charlie.” Nor for her. She was so tired of keeping up pretenses. “And I don’t belong here.”

  “We’ll miss you and Master Charlie, Miss Esther.”

  She shook her head. “You could come with me, Eli. If you wish. You see, Father never owned you. Mother did. You were left to her daughters.” A bitter taste crept up the back of her throat. She had been raised with the understanding that a man could own another, but not to speak of it in such crude terms. “I’ve made the necessary arrangements with my sister.” Another sore spot between them. “You are free.” She pulled the document from beside the lamp and held it out. “You may do as you please now.”

  Eli stood silent, staring at the papers in her hands. “I thank you, Miss Esther.”

  She wiped a sudden trickle of moisture from her cheek. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  His arms opened, and she stepped into them. “I have funds set aside for you, whatever you need. Whether you come with me or join President Lincoln’s fight, that’s your choice. Go with God.”

  They sat in the dark for another hour, the lamplight flickering ever lower as they discussed plans. She wanted to depart as soon as everything was made ready, before any real conflicts began. Eli agreed to wait the week to accompany her to Boston, where he would leave them and find out where he was needed by the Union. Soon everything was decided and they bid each other good night, though it was probably early morning.

  All was settled. By the end of the week she would be on her way north. Strangely, her main regret for leaving was the man who wouldn’t let her near him. Oh, how Charlie would miss him. As would she.

  Forget him.

  As hard as he tried, it was impossible to push Esther from his mind. Though he had removed her splint from his arm, the memory of her gentle ministrations remained. Along with the image of her standing in his room, stacking dishes to wash …

  Flynn brought the hammer down with his left hand, his right tucked tight to his chest. Healing, but not ready for the abuse of his trade. He hadn’t produced anything he could sell in almost a month, but he needed to keep his mind and body busy, so here he sat, tapping clumsily away at something that only opened the hole in his chest wider.

  “Wh–what is … that?”

  Flynn spun to face the chair in the corner now occupied by Charlie. “How did you get in here?”

  Charlie pointed to the open doorway from the mostly bare storefront.

  “You surprised me.” He set the hammer on the swage block and straightened. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “You were busy.” The boy nodded at him emphatically.

  A smile teased the corner of Flynn’s mouth. He pulled the glove from his hand. “Yes, I was.” He glanced around, disappointment and concern battling for prominence. “Where is your mother?”

  Charlie shuffled his feet back and forth, looking at the floor. His shoulders lifted to his ears.

  “Did you come here on your own? Again?”

  A subtle smile stretched his mouth, and he bit his lip.

  “Charlie.”

  “Mama said … we couldn’t come no more. She … she wouldn’t listen … that I haaaaad to come. You neeeed me.”

  Swallowing hard, Flynn crouched in front of
the boy, but before he could open his mouth, Charlie threw his arms around his neck. Emotion surged up Flynn’s throat and misted his eyes. I do need you. Despite all his bluster that he could get along on his own, the truth gripped his heart like a vice.

  Lord, help me.

  “I want to stay … with you.”

  “I want that too. I really do.” He gripped Charlie’s arms, meeting the boy’s ever-welcoming eyes. “But your mama will be missing you. We need to take you home.” Even if that meant confronting Esther again. And her father.

  Chapter 13

  As much as Flynn wanted more time with Charlie, he had to see the boy home for Esther’s sake. Even if it meant Dr. Allerton’s wrath. Hopefully, they could avoid him altogether.

  Flynn weaved through the back streets and alleys to avoid being seen, but the Allerton estate stood on the outskirts of town, making the route lengthy. Charlie breathed hard, and his feet dragged slower with each block.

  “Just a little farther,” Flynn encouraged.

  Charlie gripped his hand, following without a word or complaint. But his breathing …

  Flynn paused and looked back. “You all right?”

  The boy’s smile had fled. “I’m … good.”

  A few more steps and his hand slipped away from Flynn’s. He leaned over and rested his hands on his knees.

  Buggy wheels and hooves against the ground made Flynn glance up. Recognition surged, and he dragged Charlie from the street behind a vine of honeysuckle. The boy’s eyes grew wide, and his smile crept out again.

  “It’s better that your grandfather not see us together.”

  Flynn looked to the road as the doctor’s buggy jostled past. Eli wasn’t at the reins. Strange.

  “He doesn’t … talk … to me.” Charlie’s words puffed out on labored breaths, and he clutched his arm. His brows pushed together. “I—”

  “Easy, Charlie.” Flynn eased him into his arms, bracing him up on his knee. “Catch your breath.” Only this was more than just shortness of breath from the exertion or excitement. He was in pain.

  His breaths came more rapidly, barely making it past his throat.

  “Charlie … Charlie, you need to breathe.” Panic climbed Flynn’s spine. “Come on, Charlie.” Flynn held him against his chest and breathed deep. Just as Esther had the day they’d arrived. Which meant Charlie’d had these episodes before and he’d be fine. Right? Still, doubts hung over Flynn. “Breathe, Charlie.” What if he wasn’t fine this time? Even though there was a doctor just ahead, climbing out of his buggy.

  Flynn scooped Charlie’s small body against him in his arms, ignoring the sharp ache in the right one as he sprinted up the packed dirt road toward the Allerton estate.

  “Dr. Allerton!”

  The doctor spun, a curse on his lips as he jogged to meet them. “What have you done?”

  “He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe?”

  “It’s not his lungs, it’s his heart.” Instead of taking the boy, Allerton fumbled with his case and then with a tiny jar of powder. He forced Charlie’s mouth open and spilled some over his tongue. “Come on, boy.”

  Flynn’s own heart thundered in response. If anything happened to Charlie, if he became the cause of any more pain for the child or his mother, he’d never forgive himself. Please, God, heal his heart. Help him.

  The smithy sat still and silent. No tatting of hammers or the rumble of Thomas’s voice as he explained his work. No laughter or Charlie’s happy response. Esther would give almost anything to go back to those happy first weeks here, before they had tried to ignore and deny the affection growing between them.

  “Thomas?”

  Unease creeping through her, Esther set her hand to the cool forge—she’d never seen it without coals alive within. Where was Thomas? And where was Charlie? When she’d told him they’d be returning north, Charlie became upset and insisted he needed to say goodbye to his friend. Had even asked if Mr. Flynn could come with them.

  She’d managed a smile and told him they would say goodbye, but a blacksmith needed to stay with his shop—he didn’t fit into their world.

  Charlie had given the most confused look, making her question her own words.

  Esther stared up the back stairs. Charlie had to be with Thomas. He’d been so insistent they go right away, but she’d been busy organizing their belongings. Honestly, she hadn’t been ready to see Thomas. Or to say goodbye.

  The upstairs room sat quiet and dim, abandoned. Had she missed them? Was Thomas walking Charlie home?

  “Please, let him be with Thomas, Lord,” she prayed as she hurried down the stairs and directly into a solid chest.

  Thomas grunted in pain and pulled his sore arm out of the way. “Esther?”

  “I’m so sorry!”

  Thomas stared at her for a moment, not speaking.

  “Did I hurt you? Why aren’t you wearing your splint? It hasn’t been long enough to—”

  “You need to hurry home,” Thomas started. “Charlie—”

  “Then you did see him?”

  A nod. Dark hair fell over his brow. “He came to see me. I took him home.”

  Breath left her. What a relief to know her boy was safe. She was so grateful for this man. And in fact, he’d never looked so well. Hair still a little wild, but his clothes were clean, and he wore a coat that fit his trim stature well. Esther wasn’t sure she’d ever seen his attire so complete. But it was his eyes that drew her in. A darker shade of blue than usual with a hint of moisture glinting in them.

  “Thank you. Again.”

  His brow furled. “Again?” he choked. “What have I ever done that has benefitted you?”

  Had he no idea how much lighter her burden had become every time she stepped through those doors with her boy? “You can’t know how long I hoped someone else could see Charlie the way I do. You looked beyond the things that make him different.” She set her palm against his chest. “You have been more of a father to him than even his own. I can’t ever repay you enough for that. Thank you, Thomas Flynn, for loving him.” If only he could feel something similar—something more—for her.

  His eyes misted. “You need to go.”

  “Why? Why do you keep pushing me away?” When all she wanted was to be pulled close. She wanted to be held. Cherished. Loved. By him.

  “Charlie.”

  “Charlie loves you.”

  He gripped her hand in his until she met his gaze. “Charlie isn’t well. I left him with your father, but his heart is failing. Your father said he could have died.”

  “What?”

  “You need to go home.”

  Esther blinked. Her baby was fighting for his life while she stood here about to bare her heart like a fool. She spun and raced out the front of the smithy, with only one quick glance back at Thomas and his pained face. Why did it feel as though she were leaving her rock behind while she plunged back into the storm?

  Chapter 14

  Flynn paced the street in front of the Allerton estate. Even dressed in his best, he felt like riffraff compared to the grandness of the house. He should walk away and not breach the grounds, but five days had passed and he’d heard nothing of Charlie’s condition. Or how Esther faired. Did they expect him not to care, to be able to sleep, eat, or even think straight not knowing?

  But could he risk everything?

  A short laugh tasted bitter. Esther and Charlie were everything. The smithy, the shop, the work he’d spent his life mastering had lost any meaning but to prolong his lonely existence. Flynn filled his lungs and started up the narrow walk around the back of the house. Stomach in knots, he tapped on the smaller door that should lead to the kitchen.

  A willowy woman, black curls wrapped up in a bandanna, squinted at him. “What you here for?”

  “I need to speak with Eli.”

  “Eli?” She eyed him up and down once more before turning away. “He ain’t here anymore. Gone north, he did.”

  “He’s free?”

&
nbsp; She nodded. “Best you just leave.”

  “No. I can’t. I need to know. How is Charlie? Is he—”

  She folded her arms. “Upstairs sleeping. But he ain’t good.”

  “Will he recover?” Please, God, give us that much. Flynn hadn’t prayed much in his life, but the plea flowed easily now, directly from his heart.

  The woman glanced down. The pause was too long.

  “Where’s Esther?”

  “Sitting with the boy, I reckon.”

  Flynn gripped her arm until she met his gaze. “I need you to take me to them.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Please.”

  “I heard ‘bout what happened. Master Allerton’s already mad as a hornet. If he sees you here—”

  “I don’t care. I need to see Esther—Mrs. Mathews.”

  Another pause, and the woman nodded. “Master Allerton’s in his office. You’d better hope he stays there awhile. If he sees you, I had nothing to do with letting you inside.”

  She left the door open and disappeared down the hall. Yeast and onion mingled on the air, another woman busy within the kitchen. He followed the first woman’s path through the back of the house, climbing to the second floor. Anticipation grew.

  “Charlie loves you, Thomas.”

  He wished Esther shared her son’s feelings. The way she looked at him lent him hope.

  Flynn shook the thought from his head. Esther might be grateful for the kindness he had shown her son, but she would never see him as more than he was, more than his station and heritage allowed him to be.

  Deep rugs cushioned his footfalls, and he hoped his boots would not mar their ornate designs. Finally, the woman stopped and motioned him to move ahead, through a doorway into a large bedroom. The grand bed in the center appeared all the greater with how small a body lay tucked under a yellow quilt. An appropriate color for a boy who spread sunshine wherever he went.

  “Charlie.” He breathed the name, stepping into the room.