Chapter 2
“I’m going to the bank to make a deposit,” the storekeeper said. “Be sure to lock up when you leave.”
“Yes, sir,” Chad replied.
The man left without another word.
“Good day to you, too,” Chad said sarcastically to the closed door.
He put the broom away. As he was about to leave he glanced at the book rack. The novel he’d been looking at earlier caught his eye. Rex Ryan, astride his black stallion, smiled at him from the cover.
Chad looked around the room, then back at Rex. He walked over and took the book off the rack and stuffed it into a back pocket. He seemed to hear his mother’s voice, Thou shalt not steal!
He fumbled in a pocket, found a dime, went behind the counter, and put it in the cash drawer. He checked to see that the back door was locked, locked the front door of the store, and headed for home.
* * * *
Arriving at home, he slipped into the house through the back door, and went straight up to his room. Chad took the book from his pocket and stretched out on his bed.
He stared into the face of the handsome cowboy on the cover. The man had dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Immediately Chad felt that familiar tightening in his groin. He knew later that night, when everyone was asleep, he would be responding to that tightening. For now he opened the book to the opening page and started to read. He’d hardly read the first paragraph when he heard his mother calling him.
“Chadwick! Chadwick, you get down here this instant!”
Chad sighed, closed the book, and shoved it under his pillow. He got up, adjusted the bulge in his pants, and went downstairs. His mother was waiting for him. What boring chore had she in mind for him tonight?
“What do you mean sneaking into the house!” she demanded. “You know I have things that need doing.”
“Yes, I know, Mother, but I was tired and…”
She ignored his fabricated excuse for getting to his room and the book. “The handle has come off my best skillet. I need you to go to Mr. Malone’s and see if he can weld it back on.”
Immediately Chad brightened. Mr. Malone was the town blacksmith. He was a big, burly Irishman with arms as thick as oak logs and a fringe of red hair that curled around the bib and neck strap of his leather apron. He was totally bald with a heavy auburn beard. He had a ready smile. Chad enjoyed being in the man’s company more than he could express. Mr. Malone was the closest thing to a cowboy there was in this town, where, in addition to his smithy business, he ran a boarding stable where townsfolk kept their horses.
The Algoods kept their carriage horse, Bill, with Mr. Malone. Although rarely used for carriage rides since the death of Chad’s father, Mrs. Algood occasionally had Chad drive her to nearby towns to shop and visit friends. So Bill had stayed in the family. Chad often went to Mr. Malone’s on Sundays to ride Bill. The old horse provided the young man the opportunity to indulge in his cowboy fantasies. He would ride over the countryside, envisioning himself in pursuit of bank robbers or routing a band of marauding Redskins. In the process Chad had become a fairly skilled rider despite only having ridden Bill bareback, with ropes tied to his halter in place of a bridle. Since Mrs. Algood frowned on Chad’s cowboy aspirations, he used the excuse of needing to oil the tack for the carriage to get to ride Bill—and visit the blacksmith as well. Chad relished this opportunity to see Mr. Malone an extra time mid-week.
When he arrived at the shop, Chad was rewarded with something extra. Although it was early evening, the smith was still at the forge, stripped to the waist, sweat glistening on his huge biceps, dampening the lush growth of red hair on his muscular chest. Chad walked tentatively up and stood on the other side of the forge, admiring the sight.
“Good evening, Mr. Malone,” Chad said after indulging himself for a few moments.
The smithy raised his head. “Oh, hello, Chadwick. What brings you here in the middle of the week?” he asked, the man’s Irish brogue delighting Chad’s ear.
Chad explained the reason for his visit. Mr. Malone examined the skillet, announcing that he, indeed, could repair it. Chad could wait if he wished, as it would only take a short time. Glad to have an excuse to remain in the man’s presence, Chad replied that he would wait.
Not wanting to make it obvious that he was content to sit and stare at the man as he worked, Chad said he would go check on Bill. Bill’s stall was situated in such a way that Chad was afforded an excellent view of Mr. Malone’s back, covered with a dense tangle of hair plastered to the v-shaped frame with perspiration.