Though this was foreign to my own experience, business was business, whether showing horses or shoeing them. When an investment went south, sometimes you had no choice but to fold.
“So when is this big competition? I thought the Devon Horse Show was in the spring.”
“The big one is. This is a more specialized show, solely dressage, held in September.”
“Is the prize money big?” I asked, assuming that a win would not only increase Duchess’s value but would also provide funds to infuse back into the business.
Eric snorted. “Nah. Winning at dressage is about the title, not the money. I mean, the highest purse there is only ten K or so. Natasha’s attire alone costs more than that.”
I blinked. “You’re kidding, right?” I hated to sound naive, but I couldn’t imagine such a thing. “A ten-thousand-dollar riding outfit? How is that even possible?”
“Well, boots are a thousand, coat’s nine hundred, pants four hundred,” he said, going down the list and adding in top hat, silk tie, and gloves until the total was closer to twelve thousand. “And that’s just the rider. Then there’s all the stuff the horse needs, starting with the saddle, which can run into the thousands as well. There’s also training, upkeep, transportation, and on and on. It gets a little ridiculous.”
I listened as Eric rattled off more types of expenses, more numbers, but I found that it all kind of blurred together—until he just happened to mention the cost of the horses themselves. Apparently, after her last win, Duchess had been valued at two hundred thousand dollars—and if she did indeed “rank up a level” at Devon in September as everyone hoped, that value would more than triple.
I let out a low whistle. “No wonder, then. It’s all coming clearer now.”
“I know, right? We’re not talking chump change.”
I thought about that, remembering what Natasha had said earlier about January, that she could afford the risk, relatively speaking, of sending her off with me. I shared her comment with Eric, adding, “Now that I know the kinds of numbers we were talking about, her words make a lot more sense. Of course January would seem cheap compared to Duchess. Most other horses would.”
“Yeah, seriously. She paid twenty thousand for January, from what I recall. Compared to two hundred thousand, that is a big difference.”
His tone was matter-of-fact, but I sucked in a breath, my heart giving a heavy thud in my chest. I was going to be taking delivery on a twenty-thousand-dollar horse? Unbelievable. If I’d had to guess, I would have put her price tag at a fourth of that at most. No wonder Natasha needed the animal gentled. Even if she did own other horses worth much more, twenty thousand dollars was nothing to sneeze at. It was time for January to start earning her keep.
Which meant it was time for my skills to be put to the test, now as never before.
NINE
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.”
Priscilla sighed heavily but quietly, the way I’d seen Amos sigh when something he was attempting to weld just wouldn’t stick.
“We’d really like you to come with us,” I added, meeting her gaze.
“I guess that would be all right.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. We’re going to have the best time,” Amanda said.
The supper bell clanged then.
Amanda cocked her head toward the sound. “Oh, my. Here the meal is ready, and I didn’t even offer to help get it on the table. How rude of me! I’d better get in there.” She turned toward the door and began to walk purposely toward it, not bothering to wait for me or Priscilla to follow.
Priscilla made no move to leave the barn. I turned to her. A bit of straw that had been in her hair was now dangling just above her ear. She was watching Amanda as she strode out the double doors. It was difficult to read the look on her face, but if I had to guess I’d say she was thinking she wasn’t ready to face all her old schoolmates again. Not just yet.
“The volleyball games are a lot more loosely organized than the singings,” I told her gently, “but they really are fun.”
She turned to me, a pensive look on her face. “What?”
“I think you’ll have a good time at the Chupps’,” I said, but with less enthusiasm. Maybe
the look on her face had nothing to do with volleyball.
She turned toward the door again. The piece of straw in her hair swung like a pendulum.
“You have a bit of… ” I reached for the straw and pulled it gently away. “There.”
Priscilla looked at the tiny stick in my hand and said nothing.
“Coming?” I gestured toward the door.
She sighed again. “In a minute.”
“Okay, then.” I turned to leave.
“Wait.”
I looked back.
“I need to ask you something. Can you please, um, can you please promise never to do that again?” Her voice was sincere, as if she hated to ask but simply had no choice.
I felt terrible.
“You mean put you on the spot like that? Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize Amanda was going to blurt it out that way. I should have told you sooner.”
I really did feel bad for Priscilla. It must be awful to be so shy, to not have a gregarious bone in her body—especially being Amish because so much of our lifestyle involved community.
“Not that.”
So what was it, then? I squinted, staring at her. Could she be this worked up over a bit of dried grass? “What, take straw out of your hair? We’re going inside to eat. Most people—”
“I’m not talking about straw in my hair either, Jake. I’m talking about my horse. Please. Just don’t get in between Voyager and me again unless I ask for your help, okay? I know it may sound dumb to you, but it’s something I need you to do for me. I’d really appreciate it.”
I stood there for a second, my brow furrowed. “Well, no offense, but if I hadn’t stepped in to help, you’d still be yanking on that lead and Voyager would still be outside his stall.” I felt a vague wave of irritation rise up inside of me and then fade back down again as she spoke.
“Ya, perhaps. But that’s between him and me. Not you. Okay?”
I blinked, confused. “You really want me to have nothing whatsoever to do with your horse?”
She nodded, looking up at me, and I tried to decipher what I was seeing in her eyes. There was a sadness there, but also a sort of stubborn defiance.
The Amish Blacksmith Page 11
