The Amish Blacksmith (28 page)

“It's not enough, though. I just keep remembering her as a little girl before either of her parents died. She was such a unique child, and I mean that in a good way. The first time I ever met her was inside the blacksmith shop, where she was lining up her dad's welding tools and naming each one. Smart as a whip, that kid, and not one ounce of fear around horses that were ten times her size.”

I glanced at Roseanna, who was smiling now despite the tears that had pooled in her eyes.

“That's the girl I want to help,” I added, “the one who knew what an angle grinder was by the time she was seven.”

Roseanna nodded and took her hand from my arm. “Then in my prayers, I will ask God to give you insight and wisdom for how you can continue to help.” With that she turned and headed for the house, where her chores awaited.

Feeling thoughtful and subdued, I led Patch to the barn, and Stephen soon joined me. We started on our afternoon tasks, mucking out the stalls, bringing in Mahlon's and Owen's horses—Stephen had taken them out to the back paddock earlier for air and exercise—and doling out the second feeding of grains for the day. We also raked the beds down, prepared the feed for the morning, gave everyone a quick brush, and checked all the water troughs. January seemed to grow more relaxed as we worked, which relieved me greatly.

Over on the Kinsinger side, we purposely left Voyager alone so as not to get ourselves into trouble with Priscilla, though he watched us with interest, snorting a time or two to let us know he was there in case we'd forgotten.

When we were about done, Amos arrived from an errand in town, and I took Big Sam from him while he put the buggy away. By five thirty we were all finished in the barn, Stephen and Comet heading home as Roseanna rang the bell for Amos's supper. As I stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine, she called out to me from the porch on the big house.

“You can come too, Jake.”

I hadn't made other plans, and all I had at the cottage in the way of supper options were a few cans of beans and some soup. It wasn't hard to accept her offer.

In the excitement of getting January situated and then having the evening chores to do, I had forgotten about my last encounter with Priscilla, earlier, just before Natasha came. She hadn't been very happy with me then, and I was reminded of that now when I saw the look she gave me. After washing up in the mudroom, Amos and I stepped into the kitchen, where Priscilla was just putting a bowl of peas on the table. She stopped midstep to flash me a frown of displeasure.

At least that's what it looked like to me. She quickly turned away so I didn't have time to study it.

After our silent prayer, Amos wanted to hear all about the new four-legged client I had in the barn. I explained the situation with January and
what I hoped to be able to do for her. At first, he just listened with polite interest, but then Roseanna jumped in, telling him with enthusiasm about our earlier encounter and what I had taught her about calming an agitated horse. He listened without comment, but I felt that his respect for my little side business definitely got a lift.

As we were finishing up the meal, we heard a buggy outside, making its way across the gravel.

Roseanna peered out the window. “It's Amanda,” she said, and she then turned to me. “Think she'll want a plate?”

“She's probably eaten already,” I said. I rose, intending to secure Amanda's horse and cart to the hitching rail out front, but she was already looping her reins when I stepped out. She smiled and waved me over.

“This is a nice treat,” I said, to which she smilingly replied that she wasn't here for me. She'd come for Priscilla.

“I have a surprise for her,” she added, eyes bright with anticipation. “Just the best idea ever.”

“Oh? Best idea ever, huh? Then somehow it must involve double chocolate chip cookies.”

She grinned. “I could arrange that, I suppose.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “A welcome home party for Priscilla!” she whispered with delight as she eyed the windows of the house.

“Oh.” That would be a great idea if Priscilla were the type to like parties, which I knew she was not.

“Here's the best part. Guess at whose house!”

“Uh… yours?”

She slapped my chest. “Of course not. The Zooks'!”

“Where?” I was sure I hadn't heard her right.

“Matthew Zook's house!”

I tried not to grimace. Amanda had to have been working overtime to make this happen. Talk about matchmaking. I feared this was pushing things too far, too fast.

“What's wrong with that?” she pouted.

“Um… well, isn't it a little soon? They barely spent half an hour together at the volleyball game. Besides, he's a guy. I doubt he's ever thrown a party before.”

“Very funny, Jake. Katy, Cheryl, and I are the ones really throwing it.
Matthew's just providing the house where it will happen. It wasn't that hard to talk him into it. I think that must mean he really likes Priscilla and wants to get to know her better.”

“Okay. Maybe,” I said, with plenty of doubt in my voice.

“Matthew's mom thinks it's a great idea, and she's even letting me be in charge of organizing it. It's perfect. We'll have the party there, and Matthew and Priscilla will have to spend time together. It will be at
his
house. And she will have to stay for the whole thing because she's the guest of honor. See?”

I wanted to tell Amanda that this was probably a bad idea. Almost certainly a bad idea. But when I looked into her pretty green eyes and saw the delight that radiated there, I didn't want to be the one to extinguish it.

“Come on! Let's go tell Priscilla,” she said, and I had no choice but to follow, like a tail on a kite.

When we got inside, Priscilla was at the sink scraping plates, Roseanna was gathering dishes from the table, and Amos was finishing up his last bite of meat loaf. Priscilla turned slowly, a forced half smile on her lips when she saw Amanda.

“Oh, Priscilla!” Amanda rushed to her. “I have the best news! We're throwing you a welcome home party on Friday night.”

“Pardon?” Priscilla said, a sheen of dread appearing in her eyes in an instant.

“At the Zooks' house. It's going to be so much fun. You'll be able to reconnect with even more people than you did at the volleyball game.”

“That's wonderful,” Roseanna said from the table. “Isn't it, Amos?”

He nodded in happy agreement and nearly winked at me.

“What can I contribute?” Roseanna asked.

Amanda turned to face her. “Thanks for offering. I'm in charge of the food. How about you bring your seven layer bars, the ones you made for the Christmas pageant last year? Everyone loves those.”

“Be happy to,” Roseanna replied, smiling wide.

“And if you don't mind, pass the invitation along to any other family members you think might like to come, would you? Beth could do her artichoke dip, and maybe Treva could bring a vegetable dish.”

As the two of them talked recipes and who was bringing what, my attention was on Priscilla, standing at the sink, dripping water on the tops of her bare feet without even realizing it. I could see the wheels in her mind turning, trying to figure out what to make of this new circumstance. She looked my way and our eyes met.

I smiled wanly and shrugged, wanting her to know I understood her reluctance. She turned back to the sink as if to say I understood nothing.

Amanda stayed for another hour or so, first for some of Roseanna's triple berry Bundt cake, and then she and I sat outside on the porch for a little while until I convinced her to head back home before darkness fell.

As I walked her to her horse and cart, she leaned into me. “Matthew is such a nice guy,” she said softly, as though Priscilla were right behind us, intent on hearing our every word. “I was over there today talking with him and his mother, and he was so kind and polite.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to have this party at your house, though?” I asked, hoping to lessen the impending awkwardness for Priscilla.

“Can't. My
daed
found some dry rot in the floorboards. He'll be tearing out part of the living room floor in the next few days. And don't even suggest that we have it here, where Priscilla can disappear to her room if she gets the notion. It's best to have it at Matthew's so she can meet his parents. They are so nice. And Matthew's
mamm
wants to have the party there. So stop overthinking it.”

“I'm not overthinking. It just seems to me that for Matthew's sake too you might want to slow down a little and—”

“Yes, you are overthinking it. Matthew and I talked and talked. I know he seems shy, but it's more that he's kind of quiet at first until he gets to know you a little bit. He's exactly the sort of person to bring Priscilla out of her shell, and it won't be because he's trying to. You see what I mean? That's just how he is. So that makes me the best matchmaker ever!”

“No doubt,” I said, hoping she would be proven right in the end. “Just make sure you give Priscilla lots of time to warm up to him, okay? She might need more than one party to, well, you know, fall in love with the guy.”

“Fine. But don't be surprised if it happens sooner than you think.”

I decided not to argue the point. I unwound the reins on Amanda's horse as she stepped into her cart. The sun was just starting to dip into the horizon.

“You be careful on the roads. The
Englisch
drive at their worst at sunset.” I rubbed some mud off one of the cart's side reflectors.

“I will. And don't let Priscilla find a reason not to come on Friday. You have to bring her.”

“
I
have to bring her?”

“Yes. Well, you and Amos and Roseanna and whoever,” Amanda said, gesturing toward the various houses that surrounded us on the Kinsingers' farm.
“I'll already be there helping to set up everything. Come a few minutes after seven, not before. I want everybody to be inside when she arrives. And don't let Roseanna forget her bars.”

It was already sounding like a huge production, and all I could think of was poor Priscilla.

“Amanda, I don't know—”

“Hey. This is exactly the kind of thing Amos asked us to do for Priscilla. And we already said we would. I don't go back on my word, and I know you don't either. Come on. It'll be fun.”

Her confidence and the ease with which she envisioned this party were difficult to ignore. “I hope you're right,” I said, captivated again by her easy smile.

“Of course I am!” She blew me a kiss and then slapped the reins. She waved to me as she turned onto the road.

When she was gone, I started for the barn to check on January, glancing back toward the house as I went. When I did, I was shocked to see Priscilla standing just off to the side of the porch, maybe thirty feet away, pouring birdseed into the feeder.

I felt the color drain from my face, remembering Amanda's words.

This is exactly the kind of thing Amos asked us to do for Priscilla.

Surely Priscilla hadn't overheard us, had she?

No, impossible. Because if she had, she wouldn't be calmly filling the birdfeeder now.

Not a chance.

N
INETEEN

T
he next morning, I got up an hour earlier than usual so I could get some time in with January before work. Step one was to begin establishing mutual trust between us, and to do that I had to present opportunities for January to
need
to trust me, which meant introducing the tiniest bit of fear and then quickly showing the horse that she had nothing to worry about. Though over the coming days I would likely try a variety of triggers, such as a crinkly plastic bag or a shiny aluminum pan, this morning I brought in a big red rubber ball I'd borrowed from Stephen last night. All I did was hold the ball near January, which she did not like at all, and then I waited until she settled down and rewarded her with a carrot. After that, I moved the ball closer to her, waited, rewarded, then put it on her back, waited, rewarded, and so on. After twenty minutes, she was okay, to a point, with the giant ball. Really, it was more that she was okay with
me
in spite of there being a rubber ball between us, which was exactly the response I wanted. She had decided to put her confidence in me even though there was a giant red round thing in the stall. I would likely have to repeat the process the following day. My goal was to have her not react to the stimuli but respond to me.