Chapter Eight
Mica didn’t expect to find people standing on the sidewalk outside of the shop when she opened the door, but sure enough, two people stood there, a man and a woman. She was as shocked by their appearance as their presence.
The man was tall, almost as tall as Matty, and with the kind of looks and build that are typically only found in a woman’s fantasy. The woman with him was just as impressive, tall and seriously built.
“Hi,” Mica greeted them. “Come in.”
“Thanks,” the woman said as she entered. “I’m Charli Judd and this is my husband, Grady.”
“Grady Judd the SEAL, right?” Mica had heard about Grady from Matty.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My brother, Matty, has mentioned you several times. And Dr. Whitestone tells me that you served as well, Mrs. Judd. Delta, I believe?”
“Yes.”
“It’s an honor to meet you both and thank you for your service.”
Both of them smiled, and nodded and Mica continued. “What can I help you with today?”
“Deacon—Commander Johns mentioned that you have a good selection of knives.”
“A few. Please, have a look around,” Mica offered.
“Thanks.” Grady began perusing the knives, but Charli stayed in place.
“I hear you’ve been putting Etta through her paces,” Charli said.
“Oh, I don’t know. That woman’s a natural runner.”
“She is.” Charli smiled. “She and Deacon speak highly of your brother, as does her fiancé JJ.”
“Thank you. Matty is a good man. He’s just going through a difficult time.”
“Etta can help with that.” Charli put her hand on Mica’s arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “So can Deacon and JJ and Grady, too. You know SEALs are family, right? They take care of their own, so if there’s something you and Matty need…”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. Everyone has been so kind.”
Charli looked around. “Etta said you did amazing work. How did you learn to do this?”
Mica smiled. This was a question she could answer with complete honesty. “When Matty and I were growing up on the reservation, the local blacksmith was one of our favorites. We hung out at the smith more than we did at home and he taught us. Matty was attracted to the forge, shaping metal, but I liked creating blades.
“So, I kept doing it and made it a hobby until we decided to buy this place and now I guess it’s no longer a hobby.”
“Do you take special orders?” Grady asked.
“Sure, if there’s something special you want, and I can handle the job.”
“Boot knives.”
“Boot knives?” Mica grinned. “You just hit my happy button. Let me show you a set I recently completed.”
She went behind the counter, took a small wooden box from the shelf, and placed it on the countertop. Grady walked over, opened the box, and picked up one of the knives inside and slid it from its sheath. “This is gorgeous. Stainless steel?”
“High chromium martensitic stainless steel, hardened and tempered to a mirror finish. The handle is high nickel, high chromium stainless steel for the bolsters and fittings and Carnival crazy lace agate gemstone. The sheath is ostrich skin with hand-carved leather inserts.”
“This is amazing.” Grady passed the knife to Charli who turned it over and over in her hand.
“This really is a work of art. Just out of curiosity, how much does a knife like this go for?”
“Around five thousand.”
“Five thousand dollars?” Charli looked at her in obvious surprise.
“It takes a lot of time and expensive materials.”
“Wow. I’d be afraid to let it out of its box.”
“Knives are tools, first and foremost,” Mica said. “They can be made to be beautiful, but they’re still tools.”
“Or weapons,” Grady pointed out.
“A killing tool is still a tool,” Mica replied. “But I don’t make them with any intended use in mind. I just love the way they look.”
“You’re an unusual person.” Charli commented. “I’ve never known anyone who did this for a living.”
“And I’ve never known a female Special Forces badass, so I’d say I’m coming out on top,” Mica replied.
“Well, I don’t know about badass but thanks. I’m glad we finally met, and I’d love to meet your brother.”
“And I’d like to see him again,” Grady added.
“Then come with me to the Smithy.” Mica said and when Grady started to put the knife into the box, added. “And take that with you.”
“Girl, I love it, but five K is a bit much for a knife.”
“I didn’t say buy it. It’s a gift. For Charli.”
“No. I can’t do that,” Charli protested. “You can’t just give away—”
“Sure I can,” Mica replied. “And I’d like you to have it.”
“Really?”
“Cross my heart.”
“Well, damn.” Charli looked at Grady and then at Mica. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Come on let me introduce you to Matty.”
Charli and Grady accompanied her out of the back door and into the blacksmith shop. Matty was just taking off his heavy leather apron when they entered.
“Matty? We have company.”
Matty turned and at first, his face wore a scowl, but after a second of looking at Grady, he smiled. “Grady Judd.”
“Mathias.” Grady walked over and the two men hugged in that manly fashion that seemed universal for the male of the species. Back-pounding embraces that ended with the two of them grinning at each other.
“This is my wife, Charli.” Grady gestured for Charli and she hurried over to take Matty’s hand.
“It’s a pleasure, Mathias.”
“I’m honored, ma’am.” He released her hand and looked at Grady. “Never thought I’d see a ring on your finger.”
“Neither did I.”
“Congratulations, sir.”
“Thanks, Mathias.”
Mica looked up at everyone. “I feel like I suddenly walked into the land of the giants.”
Everyone got a laugh out of that. “I’m going to get out of your way and let you catch up with Matty, but thank you for stopping by and I hope we’ll see you again.”
“Maybe we could get together for dinner one night,” Grady suggested. “There’s a good steakhouse in town.”
Mica saw the stricken look on Matty’s face and answered quickly, “Or you could come for dinner here. Well, at the house. We live just out back in the Dawsons’ place and I can’t cook gourmet, but I grill a mean steak with mushroom sauce.”
“That sounds good,” Charli said and after a nod from Grady, added, “We’d love to. When?”
“Tonight?”
“Works for me,” Grady said and Charli agreed. “Me too, I get off at four. Oh, but we do have a little girl.”
“I love children. Does she have any special dietary needs?”
“Not at all. Josie loves just about anything. But what can I bring?”
“Your appetite,” Mica said. “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” Charli said.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to visit. See you later. Say, seven?”
“Perfect,” Charli answered.
“Great. See you then.” Mica returned to the storefront, wondering if she’d done Matty a favor or disservice by leaving him alone. He needed to start being social again and how better to start than with someone he knew, like Grady.
*****
Mica stood looking at the packages of wrapped beef. She’d eaten her share of beef, but had no real clue how to select a good cut. Matty normally did that, but since they’d been in Cotton Creek he’d yet to venture out to a grocery store. So, here she stood, trying to decide what to buy.
“Can’t decide?” A high-pitched, almost childlike voice asked from beside her.
A smile came immediately to her face when she beheld the woman beside her. It was the Rhinestone Queen from the Honky Tonk. Today, the woman’s hair was ratted out just as high with a mountain of cascading curls to frame a face that was artfully painted with pancake makeup, black arched brows, blue eyeshadow, two bright spots of blush on her cheeks, and lips as rosy as her matching jacket and pants.
“Hi. And actually, I don’t really know how to choose. Any advice?”
“Oh, you poor thing, have you never bought beef?”
“My brother usually does this part of the shopping and I’m afraid I don’t know what’s good or bad.”
“Well, let me help you, sugar.” The little old woman smiled sweetly and began pointing to the various packages, talking about the fat content, marbling, and such. Mica paid attention and with the woman’s help, selected steaks for dinner with the Judds and a roast for Sunday dinner.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Mica said. “Oh, I’m sorry, my manners are awful. I’m Mica Gray Horse. My brother and I just bought the blacksmith shop.”
“You’re the Indian girl?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mica had long ago gotten over taking offense at people referring to her as an Indian.
“Well, I’m Nellie Mae Baker and honey, let me tell you, I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body.”
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Baker. You’re very kind to help me like this.”
“Do you know how to cook that meat, sugar?”
“Well, the steaks, yes. Mathias, my brother, will cook them on the grill. The roast I’ll just put in the oven, with maybe some potatoes and onions and carrots piled around it?”
“Yes, you could do it that way. Or…” Nellie Mae smiled. “You could wow your dinner party with my secret recipe.”
Mica almost wanted to hug the little woman. She seemed eager to be friendly. “Really? That would be fantastic.”
“Well, do you have something to write with?”
“No, but how about I treat you to breakfast in the morning at the diner and you can give it to me then?”
“Oh, that’d be just peachy, sugar.”
“Great, it’s a date. What time is good for you?”
“Eight would be good.”
“Then eight it is. And thank you again, Mrs. Baker. You’re a godsend.”
“My pleasure, honey. And you call me Nellie Mae. See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I look forward to it, Nellie Mae.”
Mica smiled and headed for the checkout. As she stood in line, she spotted Nellie Mae with another older woman, a stunning blonde who had to have been a true knockout in her youth. Nellie Mae was talking a mile a minute and the blonde was nodding and smiling politely. Mica got the idea that Nellie Mae was the type who loved to talk and didn’t require anyone to say much else.
That was fine with Mica. She’d rather listen than talk.
She paid for her groceries, loaded them into the truck, and headed home. She was looking forward to the dinner with Charli and Grady and hoped Matty would be feeling sociable. It would be great if he could find it in himself to be a little less solitary.
Her thoughts turned to Sunday. Just thinking about seeing Deacon brought an unaccustomed sense of excitement. Thanks to the life she’d led until she came here, she didn’t have experience with this kind of thing. Sure, she knew how to flirt, but she didn’t know how to manage the feelings he inspired and wondered if these feelings were common.
Maybe one day she’d summon the courage to ask Etta. Or not. If she revealed her lack of experience in this kind of socialization, she’d have to reveal something about her past.
And she wasn’t willing for anyone to know that.