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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

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BOOK: The Amish Blacksmith
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N
INE

I
gotta be honest,” I told Eric before we wrapped up our phone call, “I'm feeling kind of stupid right now. I had no idea this much money was involved.”

“Oh, please,” he said warmly. “Don't feel dumb. Why should you know? It's way outside your realm of experience. I mean, if an Amish farmer is going to plunk down big money on a horse, it'll be in the four figures, not five or six, and for a Percheron or a Belgian, not a warmblood. Am I right?”

“I guess. But it's not just the money. There's also all these terms and things I've never even heard of.”

“Trust me, buddy, the world of show horses—especially in dressage—is so specialized, most people need a translator to keep up.”

“You can say that again. It's like being in a foreign country.”

“Uh-huh. And that's why it helps to have me advocating for you. I know these people. I've been moving around in their circles my whole life. Do you get what I'm saying?”

“Um… yeah?”

He chuckled. “I'm just trying to tell you, Jake, that if you're ready to grab the dream, keep me in the loop, okay? There's a lot I can do for you to help make that happen, especially if you can remedy this situation with January to Natasha's satisfaction. Like I said, do that and customers will be lined up at your gate.”

“Thanks, Eric. I truly appreciate it.”

“You're most welcome. And now I need to go. If I show up for dinner all sweaty from tennis, Vicki's going to kill me. It's time for me to get in the shower.”

We both laughed and said our goodbyes, but after I hung up the phone, I sat for a long time in the quiet darkness of the blacksmith shop, thinking. There was a lightness to my heart, one likely due to the reawakening of my ultimate plan. Lately I'd been so caught up in the day-to-day around here that I'd forgotten to look beyond that, to what would eventually become my life, God willing. With Eric's help, maybe I really could make my dream happen after all.

I bowed my head to give a prayer of thanks for these blessings and ask for guidance. But after a moment I was interrupted by the distant sound of a familiar voice.

Rising, I said a quick “Amen” and then leaned forward to peek out the shop's front window. I was right. Amanda was here, standing in the driveway next to her cart and chatting with Roseanna.

Moving quickly, I walked out back to check on Patch, who was still doing fine in the pen. Then I crossed around the exterior wall of the welding shop to the driveway, coming to a stop at Amanda's horse.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” I said, forcing my voice to sound light as I reached out and took Pepper's lead rope from her.

“Gee, Jake. Try not to sound so excited, huh?” Amanda teased in return.

I smiled. “Sorry. You just surprised me, is all. What's up?”

“What's up,” Roseanna answered pointedly, “is that I called on Amanda earlier today and invited her to supper tonight.”

My eyes widened as I looked from one woman to the other. I was trying to think of a respectful way to say that I would handle the arrangements for my own dates, thank you very much, when she added, “For Priscilla. I invited Amanda over so she could visit with Priscilla. But of course you're welcome to join us too if you'd like.”

“Ah, sure. Thanks,” was all I could manage. I felt like an idiot, but fortunately the two of them jumped right back into their conversation, so I was able to cover my embarrassment by putting away her buggy and horse. I also took a few minutes to bring Patch back into the barn as well, praising him all the way and rewarding him with fresh water and a scoop of grain.

Roseanna and Amanda were still in the driveway when I made it back out, though they had managed to work their way up closer to the house. As I joined them, I found myself feeling like an interloper who had merely
bumbled his way into a dinner invitation. For a moment, I considered backing out again, but then I decided to stick with it for Priscilla's sake. Amanda was a charming and friendly young woman, but I knew that to someone like Priscilla, she could come across as rather overwhelming. Obviously, Amos and Roseanna had gotten Amanda over here in order to hurry along the process of their niece's reintegration into local society. It was a good idea in theory, but there was such a thing as too far, too fast.

“So where is she?” Amanda asked both of us as she looked about.

“Who, Priscilla?”


Ya
, of course Priscilla! I want to see her.”

Turning to Roseanna, I asked, “Does your niece even know she has company this evening?”

“No, she doesn't,” the woman replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Why don't the two of you go tell her?”

With that, she turned on her heel and returned to the house to finish making supper.

“Isn't this fun?” Amanda whispered to me once Roseanna was out of earshot. “I really do want to see Priscilla again.”

“Well, then let's go find her,” I replied, hoping this scheme of Roseanna's didn't end up backfiring on all of us.

I suggested we check the horse barns, and sure enough that's where we found Priscilla, on the larger, Kinsinger side. She was attempting to lead Voyager into his stall, but the animal was tossing his head and prancing in place in resistance. The other horses were staring like a classroom of children watching a troublemaker give their teacher a hard time. As Priscilla strained to control him, her
kapp
popped off her head and fluttered to the ground.

“Stay here,” I said to Amanda.

I closed the distance between myself and Priscilla, approaching Voyager from the side so that he could see me coming.

“Whoa, boy.” I reached up to wrap my hand underneath the nose halter and gently grabbed hold.

Priscilla had not heard me approach. She startled and jerked her head to face me. Wisps of her dark brown hair had sprung free from the carefully twisted braid that framed her face. Her gaze on me was wide eyed.

“I have his head,” I said. “Keep hold of the lead but don't tug on it. Let's get him to calm down first.”

“I wasn't tugging on it,” Priscilla muttered as she moved around from the front to Voyager's other side, the lead now loose in her hand.

“Easy, boy,” I continued. Voyager grunted and tossed his head, making it clear he was not ready to go where he didn't want to go.

“There's a good lad,” I soothed. On the other side I could hear Priscilla catching her breath.

A few seconds later, Voyager stopped stepping in place and reduced his head thrashing to a gentler nodding. He chuffed, turned to me, and chuffed again.

“Easy does it,” I said, attempting to move forward with just slight persuasion on the nose halter. Voyager took one step with me and then stopped.

“How about you get inside the stall and toss around his feed some so he can catch a whiff?” I suggested.

Priscilla stared at me for a moment before dropping the lead and walking inside the stall. She headed for the trough, which was full of feed, and moved it around to release its scent into the air. Voyager's nostrils immediately took notice. I took another step and so did he. I waited until he took the next step forward and then joined him as he moved fully into the stall. He made for the trough, and Priscilla and I both reached up at the same time to unbuckle his halter.

“I have it,” she snapped. Bits of hay had settled on her hair and were poking out like little windmill blades.

“Sure.” I stepped back out of the stall, waiting for her to offer up a thank-you or otherwise acknowledge my assistance, but she removed the halter without saying a word—not even after she'd hung it on the hook, come out of the stall herself, and latched the door shut behind her.

Amanda chose that moment to step forward. In her hands she held Priscilla's
kapp
.

“Guder Daag,
Priscilla.
Wie bischt du
?”

Priscilla pivoted at Amanda's greeting, surprise evident on her face. Obviously caught off guard, she did not reply. Amanda offered up her
kapp
, and after a moment's hesitation Priscilla took a step forward, reached for the head covering, and whispered a barely audible, “
Danke.

Amanda shot me an uncertain glance and then turned back toward Priscilla.

“Hey, I know it's been a while,” Amanda said, obviously mistaking Priscilla's surprise for a lack of recognition. “But surely you remember me. I'm Amanda Shetler. We were in school together.”

Still no reply, so Amanda added, “You and I were always the last ones standing in the spelling bees? We used to trade sandwiches at lunch
sometimes? Our last year there, we worked together on that baby quilt for the Peruvian Indians? I can't believe you don't remember.”

“Of course she remembers,” I jumped in to say. “She's just surprised to see you here, is all.” I turned toward Priscilla. “Right?”

She gave a vague nod, still looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Roseanna thought you might like to have an old friend over for dinner,” I explained to her. Unable to help myself, I added, “I didn't know anything about it until just a few minutes ago.” For some reason, I wanted her to understand that Amanda's being here had nothing to do with me.

At least she managed to gather her composure. Replacing her look of surprise with one of timid acceptance, she finally spoke “
Ya
, of course I remember you, Amanda. I was just surprised.”

Amanda broke into a wide grin. “Oh, I'm so glad. You had me worried for a minute.”

Priscilla brushed a bit of dirt off her
kapp
but didn't put it back on.

“We're all so glad you've come back,” Amanda added.

“We?”

“All of us. Me. Jake.” Amanda flashed a smile in my direction. “Your old friends. All of us. The more word gets around, the more people are wondering when they'll get to see you themselves so they can say hello.”

Frowning, I looked over at Amanda, skeptical that there was any truth in her words. In response her eyes widened innocently and she gave a subtle nod, as if to assure me that word really was spreading and people were indeed eager to see Priscilla again.

“Too bad tomorrow's not a worship Sunday,” she added, again focusing on Priscilla. “Because if it were, you could get it all over with at once.”

“Oh.
Ya. Danke
,” Priscilla's cheeks flushed bright red as she looked down at the
kapp
in her hand and ran a finger along one of its dirtied ribbons.

“At least we have the Chupps tomorrow night,” Amanda added. “I'm so excited you're coming. You'll see a lot of the old gang there. We'll have such a good time.”

I hadn't had a chance to tell Priscilla about that. She whipped her head up.

“What?”

“Didn't you mention that, Jake? Silly you,” Amanda said, laughing. “We want you to come with us to the Chupps tomorrow night for volleyball. You remember Gabe Chupp, don't you? He's a year younger than us? Anyway, some of the group is getting together at his house tomorrow evening for some volleyball. It'll be fun. You'll love it.”

“Oh. I don't—” Priscilla looked from me to Amanda, a curious dread in her eyes.

“Priscilla, you simply must come with us. Everyone is so anxious to see you. You have to be there. Please? Please say you will.”

“I think I might be a little too old for—”

“No, you're not! You're the same age as me! Gosh, Jake's twenty-four and he still comes.”


Ya
, but only because you make me,” I replied, giving Amanda a smile. When I turned back to Priscilla, it struck me that she'd had no idea that Amanda and I were a couple until that moment. Watching her, I could see understanding dawn in her eyes, followed by a brief flash of what almost looked like… what? Disappointment?

Dismay?

Amanda was oblivious to all of it. “Please?” she urged. “Say you'll come.”

BOOK: The Amish Blacksmith
13.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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