Innkeeping with Murder (21 page)

“There’d better not be,” Marilynn hissed as
her husband led her back to the temporary fairground. Craig Monroe
offered a silent shrug of apology to Alex as they walked away.

As Alex and Elise started back inside, she
paused and said good-naturedly, “If I can’t get you to change your
mind about this fair, we should at least see what we’ve let
ourselves in for. Are you interested in walking around the displays
before Shantara opens the gates? Things were so crazy last night, I
didn’t even have a chance to see them setting up their booths.”

Though Alex knew Elise wasn’t thrilled about
having the Golden Days Fair at Hatteras West, he realized that she
would never let anyone else know how she truly felt. The offer of a
tour was her concession to making the best of what she considered a
bad situation.

“Sounds good to me,” Alex agreed as they
reversed directions.

The two of them gave the pottery area a wide
berth as they started their tour.

Bill Yadkin, one of the two blacksmiths
working the fair, already had a hearty fire going in his portable
forge. The big, fierce-looking young man stared intently at the
coals as they burned. Rachel Seabock, a traditional woodworker who
used only the hand tools she’d inherited from her
great-grandfather, hovered near the young blacksmith. Though Rachel
was a decade older than Bill, it was obvious from the look in her
eyes that there was more than just friendship between the
blacksmith and the woodworker.

Alex thought about skipping past them, but
Elise forged on before he could steer her to another exhibit. She
said, “That fire feels good this morning,” as she warmed her hands
near the coals.

Yadkin smiled. “We’ll see how you feel around
noon when the day starts to heat up.”

“No thanks,” Elise said. “What’s in the
fire?” she asked, pointing to the center of the forge. Alex looked
into the burning coals and saw a foot-long tapered shaft of metal
glowing a dull orange.

“I’m making another stake for Rachel’s
canopy. Somebody walked off with the last one.”

Rachel said proudly, “Bill’s building up
quite a clientele. His business is really taking off.”

“You don’t have to sell me every minute of
the day, Rachel,” Yadkin said shortly.

“I wasn’t... I didn’t mean . . .” Rachel
said, looking flustered. After a deep breath, she continued. “I’d
better take Jenny that rocking chair she ordered before the fair
gets into gear today,” Rachel said. “I swear, I never thought a
weaver would be one of my best customers,” she added with a shrug
before hurrying off.

After she was gone, Alex said, “Rachel’s a
big fan of yours, isn’t she?”

Yadkin shrugged. “Yeah, too much, sometimes,”
he grumbled as he moved the glowing shaft around with a long set of
tongs.

As Yadkin started to pull the steel from the
fire, he warned, “You’d better move.”

Alex and Elise took a few steps back as the
young blacksmith pulled the glowing rod from the fire. In a
practiced motion, he began pounding the steel with a scarred and
worn hammer on the broad, flat top of his anvil. The anvil seemed
to sing with each strike, and in moments the shaft’s tip was
tapered to a point. Yadkin studied it a moment, then plunged the
steel back into the fire for another heat.

“That’s fascinating,” Elise said after he was
done. “It’s like alchemy.”

“I guess,” Yadkin said with a shrug.

Alex asked, “How did you learn to do
that?”

“My dad had his own forge when I was growing
up. It was a hobby for him, but it’s the only thing I know how to
do.” The young blacksmith was a great deal more eloquent with his
hands than with his words.

Alex looked at some of the pieces on the
display table in front of the blacksmith’s booth. “That’s an
interesting swoop,” he said as he fingered a delicate curlicue on
the end of a fireplace shovel.

“It’s my trademark,” Bill said heatedly, “no
matter what Jefferson Lee says. I hear he’s been making pieces
using it just to spite me!”

“You don’t get along with the other
blacksmith?” Alex asked gently.

“He’s not a blacksmith,” Yadkin said with a
snort of derision. “He’s a showboat and a bully, but he’s not a
blacksmith. Not in my book, anyway.”

Yadkin’s tongs dove back into the fire as he
pulled the tapered shaft out again. He laid the metal across a
wedge protruding from the top of his anvil, and with a quick
strike, he separated the spike from the body of the iron. Another
flurry of strikes, and the butt end was bent at a ninety-degree
angle. After a rapid dunk in the bucket of water beside his forge,
the spike was done. It was beautiful, even with its simple form and
function.

“I’ve got to get this to Rachel,” he said,
dismissing them in an instant.

As Alex and Elise moved on, she whispered,
“He’s an interesting fellow, isn’t he?”

“Rachel seems to think so,” Alex answered.
“You know, I never would have put those two together.”

“Love has a mind of its own sometimes,” she
said as they approached the next exhibition spot.

Jenny Harris, an attractive blonde in her
early thirties, was working at her loom, weaving an intricate
pattern of yarns into what looked like a shawl. As she worked, a
clamor of bracelets and necklaces tinkled like wind chimes. Jenny
obviously made all of her own clothes, using material laced with
splashes of colors and designs unique to her work. Alex noticed
that

Jenny’s feet worked the pedals of the loom in
a constantly shifting yet graceful dance as she shot a threaded
block back and forth across the top. She stopped the second she saw
them approach.

“Hi Alex, it’s so good to see you again,”
Jenny said as she abandoned the loom for a moment and stood.

Alex explained, “Things have been crazy at
the inn lately.” Elise coughed gently beside him.

He added, “Jenny, this is Elise Danton.
Elise, I’d like you to meet Jenny Harris. She’s an old friend.”

Jenny laughed. “I was a great deal more than
that not so long ago.” Jenny gave Elise her brightest smile as she
said, “Pleased to meet you.”

Elise said, “I’ve got to admit, I’ve always
been fascinated by weaving. Could you give me a quick lesson?”

Jenny said, “Absolutely, I’d be
delighted.”

As Jenny sat back down on her portable bench
at the loom, she pointed to different parts of the setup as she
explained, “This is the reed. These are harnesses and heddles. See
the threads of yarn going through?” She held up the wooden spool.
“This is called a shuttle. It rides back and forth like so. The
foot pedals control the raising and lowering of the warp, that’s
these long strands of yarn here, and the shuttle bobbin carries
yarn across for the weft.” As she slid the shuttle back and forth
in easy, practiced motions, the shafts rose and fell in a graceful
dance at the touch of her foot pressure. As Jenny pulled the main
frame back to her, she said, “The beater comes back to snug things
up, and you’re ready for another row.”

Elise nodded. “Wow, it seems really
complicated.”

Jenny smiled and said, “It’s not as hard as
it looks. It’s like most things; you get the hang of it after you
do it long enough.”

Elise jogged Alex’s elbow as she said, “Thank
you for the lesson. It was nice meeting you, Jenny.”

“Thanks for stopping by. Don’t let Alex work
you too hard. I’ve heard he can be hard on his maids.”

Elise was more than just the maid at The
Hatteras West Inn; she was actually better qualified to run the inn
than Alex was, but she just smiled and nodded in response.

Alex said, “She’s the one keeping me busy,”
and he turned to go.

“Don’t be a stranger, Alex,” Jenny said as he
and Elise walked away.

Alex was glad to see Jenny in such a chipper
mood. They’d only gone out a handful of times before their
relationship lost its steam. Sandra Beckett, an attorney in town,
had been his main on-again-off-again girlfriend for much of the
past couple of years, but he’d ended their relationship soon after
Elise came to Hatteras West. It had startled him to discover that
Sandra was much nicer as a friend than she’d ever been as a
girlfriend. Unfortunately, the one woman Alex was interested in
dating was his “maid”—and she was engaged to someone else.

Shantara Robinson hurried up to them and
grabbed Alex’s arm. “Alex, have you seen Jefferson Lee? He should
be getting ready for the fair, but I can’t find him anywhere.”

As Elise moved back toward the inn, she said,
“If you two will excuse me, I’ve got rooms to clean.” She added
softly, “Good luck, Shantara.”

“Thanks,” she said as Elise departed. When
the maid was gone, Shantara said, “Alex, I like that woman.”

“It’s been a godsend having her at Hatteras
West,” Alex agreed.

Shantara looked over at the empty
blacksmith’s space and said plaintively, “Where could Jefferson be,
Alex? It’s just like him to disappear right before we open the
gates.”

“Take it easy, Shantara, we’ll find him. At
least you’ve got one blacksmith here and working.”

Shantara frowned. “As much as I like Bill
Yadkin, Jefferson Lee’s the real draw. I can’t run my fair without
him.”

Alex said, “Don’t worry, he’ll turn up. Are
you managing to enjoy any of this? You did a great job putting the
fair together.”

Shantara smiled. “I’ll enjoy it more after
it’s over. Right now, all I want to do is survive the experience.
Alex, I really appreciate you letting me move everything out here
at the last minute.”

“Hey, what are friends for? Now, let’s go
find your wayward blacksmith,” Alex said. “I’m sure he’s around
here somewhere.”

As they started their search, there was
another scream a thousand yards away.

It was getting to be a trend Alex could learn
to live without.