Read The Amish Blacksmith Online
Authors: Mindy Starns Clark
Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
The Men of Lancaster County Series
By Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner
The Amish Groom
The Amish Blacksmith
The Women of Lancaster County Series
By Mindy Starns Clark and Leslie Gould
The Amish Midwife
The Amish Nanny
The Amish Bride
The Amish Seamstress
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HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture verses are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota
Cover photos © Chris Garborg; Yanika / Bigstock
The authors are represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE AMISH BLACKSMITH
Copyright © 2014 by Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Clark, Mindy Starns.
The Amish blacksmith / Mindy Starns Clark and Susan Meissner.
pages cm.â (The men of Lancaster County ; book 2)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5736-6 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-5737-3 (eBook)
1. AmishâFiction. 2. BlacksmithsâFiction. 3. Lancaster County (Pa.)âFiction. I. Meissner,
Susan. II. Title.
PS3603.L366A76 2014
813'.6âdc23
2014007403
All rights reserved.
No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any otherâwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author's and publisher's rights is strictly prohibited.
In loving memory of Robert Irwin Dickerson
1907â1977
Loving grandfather, amazing horseman, wonderful man
Many thanks toâ¦
Everyone at Harvest House Publishers, in particular our lovely and gifted editor, Kim Moore.
Chip MacGregor, the literary agent who helped bring us together in the first place.
John Clark, for brainstorming, help with research, and so much more.
The Riehl and Fisher families of Lancaster County.
Elam Stoltzfus and Elias Stoltzfus, for sharing your Amish blacksmith shop and your friendship and patiently answering our many questions.
Meg Selway, for your insights into all things equine.
Emily Clark, Lauren Clark, Tara Kenny, Adam Sullivan, and Suzanne Scannell, for being so helpful throughout the process.
C
ONTENTS
Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
T
he muscles under the horse's chocolate-brown flank rippled as I pressed my hand against his warm side.
“Easy, boy,” I said, my tone that of father to frightened child.
At my work station in the blacksmith shop, I shifted so the horse could better see me and continued running my hand across his body. Halfway down his left rear leg, I came to a stop when my fingers reached a puffy knob that shouldn't have been there. Bending closer, I gently palpated the hock. I'd already scraped out the dirt and turf imbedded around his shoes minutes before, but this swelling told me to take a second, closer look at the hoof.
I flipped on my headlamp and gave the horse's fetlock a tug. In response, he nervously shifted his weight but allowed me to hoist up his leg. Crouching, I studied the hoof's surface in the glow of the beam, noting how it was worn on the inside edge. I turned to Trudy, the young teen who stood nearby, her arms crossed as she watched.
“I think Patch's knees are swollen,” she told me solemnly. “The back ones, at least.”
“Actually, they're called âknees' in the front but âhocks' in the back. See how the joints bend differently? A hock is more an elbow than a knee. But you're right. There's some swelling here for sure.”
She nodded, cupping a hand around her own elbow. Ordinarily, I
wouldn't have corrected a customer, but Trudy was different. She wanted to know. She wanted to learn. Trudy's family lived in a neighboring Amish district in Gap, and they had been coming to this blacksmith shopâas had my family and Iâfor years.
“This looks worn and uneven,” I continued. “I'd say he's been favoring the inside of his leg.”
“He's been pulling to the right. Sometimes I think he's going to take us both straight into the ditch.”
I lowered the horse's hoof to the concrete floor, and he tossed his head and nickered. I reached up a hand to remind him with a gentle touch that I was still there, that all was well. On the other side of the shop, my friend and coworker, Owen Kinsinger, was at the forge, pounding a flaming-red shoe against the rounded cone of an anvil. The horse rotated an ear toward the sound.