The Amish Blacksmith

by Mindy Starns Clark

  Once we were freed to get our food and go, we did so quickly, moving down the line of the buffet, scooping this and that onto our plates without even taking the time to see what it was, and then laying across the top of each a second plate, upside down, just to keep the food warm and debris-free as we walked.

  We headed for the stable, waiting until we were inside and alone before we burst out laughing. I apologized to Priscilla for dragging her into this, but she just grinned and said not to worry, that the horses made it all worthwhile.

  She was eager to see them, so we set our plates aside and went on a tour. Over the next half hour, she and I slowly moved from stall to stall, greeting each animal, allowing them to get comfortable with us, and familiarizing ourselves with their personalities as much as we could, watching for signs of the more anxious ones. As we neared the end of the long building, we were both especially glad to see January, who seemed happy as a clam, thanks to the beautiful dog lying on the ground asleep, nearby.

  I wasn’t sure what we’d be in for once the fireworks started, so as the time approached, I suggested we close all the doors and windows to block out as much of the sound from outside as possible. Ordinarily, they would have all been closed anyway, just to keep in the air-conditioning, but this was a cool night, so apparently the breezes had been enough.

  In any event, after we were all sealed in, we returned to our party food and began to eat as we waited. I’d never seen Priscilla in such a good mood, and she was even a little silly as we tasted the various items on our plates and ventured guesses as to what they were.

  “Pickled Kiwi eggs imported from Australia,” she said in a snobby British accent as she held up a deviled egg before popping it into her mouth.

  “Sea squid from the depths of the Indian Ocean,” I replied, biting into a curvy French fry-type item. I’d just been kidding, but I realized too late that whatever it was actually did taste like seafood, so for all I knew, I’d been right.

  As we were finishing our meals, I heard a soft sort of booming sound in the distance and realized that the fireworks had begun. Jumping into action, we tossed our paper plates into the trash. Much to our relief, there was hardly a reaction at all. One Appaloosa got a little bit spooky, but we figured that was because she was closest to the door and could hear the noise a little too well. Once we relocated her to a stall farther back in the building and on the other side, she calmed right down.

  “Easy-peasy,” I said to Priscilla, holding out both hands, palms upward, with a grin.

  The smile she gave me in return rivaled the beauty of all the fireworks in the sky.

  Clearing my throat, I turned and began to make another stroll up and down the aisle. Behind me, I could hear Priscilla moving in the opposite direction, toward January. Once I pivoted and headed down that way myself, I was surprised to find her comforting not the horse but the horse’s dog. Kneeling on the floor, she had her arms around the beautiful retriever and was cooing softly as she stroked the animal’s fur.

  “The poor thing was shaking,” she said, glancing up at me with a smile

  I just smiled at her in return, but then an image popped into my head: Priscilla as mother, cradling a baby, and cooing just this way. Maybe a house full of instant children would end up being a perfect fit for her. Everyone was always underestimating her, and I decided I would not do the same.

  On the other hand, something about the image of her with some other man’s children depressed me, so I moved over to the far side of January’s stall and busied myself by looking out of the window. Instantly, a burst of red and yellow light exploded in the sky in front of me.

  “Come look. You can see them from here.”

  Priscilla came toward me, the dog at her heels. She joined me at the window and we stood there, side by side, both of us ooing and aahing at the beauty of the display. From time to time, I tore away my attention from the drama outside to make sure all was well in here. The horses seemed fine. As I turned back to look out of the window again, my chin brushed across the starchy white fabric of Priscilla’s kapp. Suddenly, I was all too aware—of her proximity, of her beauty, of the very femaleness of her. Closing my eyes, I breathed in slowly, taking in the scents of cinnamon and lavender that wafted from her hair.

  When I opened my eyes, I realized she had turned toward me, looking as if she, too, had become aware of some hidden longing in this very moment. Our mouths were mere inches apart. She took in a small, quick breath. My heart began to pound.

  I don’t know who leaned in first. All I know is that as the fireworks lit up the sky just outside, we somehow began to move together inside, slowly closing that small distance between us. It wasn’t until our lips were millimeters apart that I managed to come to my senses.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, jerking my head back, my mind suddenly filled with images of Amanda and some guy named Noah and Indiana and Pennsylvania and all the many, many reasons why this could never ever happen.

  “I’d better check on the Appaloosa,” I said, turning and quickly striding away.

  Priscilla did not reply at all.

  In fact, we barely said two words to each other the rest of the night—not in the stable, not in the pickup, and not even when we got home and climbed out onto the driveway.

  Mostly I felt guilty.

  Mostly she looked embarrassed.

  As Ryan gave a final wave and drove off, I knew I ought to say something, anything—an apology? An explanation?—but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, she shook her head and turned toward the house. I decided to hold my tongue, because, really, what was there to say? I didn’t understand what had happened.

  All I knew was that it couldn’t ever happen again.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The next day was a quiet one, with work to keep me busy and not a single glimpse of Priscilla anywhere. That afternoon, I went looking for Amos up at the house and found Roseanna sitting at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. The sun cast a mellow, almost sympathetic hue around her. A crumpled tissue rested near her elbow, and her eyes were rimmed with glassy, ready-to-fall tears. My first thought was that someone close to the Kinsingers had died. My real reason for coming inside the big house skittered away.

  “What is it, Roseanna? What’s the matter?”

  She startled, picked up the tissue, and dabbed at her nose. “Oh, Jake. I didn’t hear you.”

  “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Roseanna smiled sadly. “She’s leaving.”

  “What? Who’s leaving?” But I knew in an instant whom she meant.

  “Priscilla. She decided to go back to Indiana.”

  The air in the room seemed to shift. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around Roseanna’s words. Priscilla’s leaving would certainly mean that her social life was no longer my responsibility. But instead of feeling relieved, my initial sensation was a wave of disappointment.

  “What do you mean, she’s leaving? It’s only the fifth of July.”

  Before Roseanna could answer me, the truth filled my mind. She was leaving because of what happened between us last night.

  A surge of guilt swept over me. My careless behavior the evening before was certainly the reason she was deciding to leave now, well before the end of the summer. The accompanying thought that she was returning for a secondary reason, to accept a marriage proposal from a man I just knew she did not love, sent me to the chair next to Roseanna.

  “Please, please tell me she’s not going back to marry that guy.”

  Relief swelled inside me when Roseanna shook her head. “No. She said she’s still holding to the end of September before making a decision on that.”

  So it was just me she was running from, I thought to myself. It had to be me who was driving her away.

  “She’s not going back to Otto and Lorraine’s, though,” Roseanna continued when I said nothing. “She’s going to live with her Great-Aunt Cora and serve as her caregiver. At least for a whi
le. Cora’s been under the weather.”

  “Priscilla told us she was done with caregiving. She’s going to be miserable there.”

  Roseanna dabbed at her nose. “I know. That’s exactly what I said to her. But she thinks it’ll be different with Cora. The woman lives next door to Priscilla’s grandparents on a small apple orchard near Elkhart. Part of the job involves working the orchard, which means Priscilla will be outside a lot. Plus she gets along well with her grandparents—and she’s especially fond of Cora.”

  An unwelcome ache was forming in my chest at the thought of Priscilla packing her bags. It bothered me, and the fact that it did also bothered me.

  “So she’s leaving? Just like that?”

  Roseanna traced the handle of her mug with a finger. “I wish we had been able to make her happy here. This will weigh on Amos. He felt he owed it to his brother to do right by Priscilla. And yet I suppose I can understand why she wants to go back. I think she tried to make it work with us. She tried hard to find her place here—”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  Roseanna looked up at me. “What?”

  “I don’t think she tried very hard. It’s only been a month. I don’t call that trying very hard.”

  “Yes, but you’re… you’re a man, Jake. I don’t think you feel as deeply about things as she does. I don’t think even I do. It’s different for her. She’s always been such a sensitive girl. I know people think she’s aloof and indifferent, but that’s not what she is. She just takes everything to heart.”

  That didn’t seem like an excuse for running away. Not to me, it didn’t. “That doesn’t mean she should.”

  “You can’t help being the kind of person you are.”

  I wanted to say, “Of course you can.” When I said nothing, she went on.

  “Amos and I are very grateful for all that you and Amanda did for Priscilla. You both went out of your way to include her and make her feel a part of things here. We can’t thank you enough.”

  But I didn’t want Roseanna’s gratitude. I wanted to talk some sense into one Priscilla Kinsinger.

  I stood and pushed in my chair. “Where is she?”

  “Her mind’s made up, Jake. Don’t feel bad. You and Amanda did your best.”

  “Ya. Sure. But where is she?”

  “In the barn with her horse.” Roseanna brought the coffee cup to her lips. “Amos told her she could leave Voyager in Stephen’s care for the time being.”

  As I strode across the gravel drive, I kept thinking that the last thing Priscilla should do was leave Lancaster County the same broken girl she was when she’d left it before. Somehow, I would have to convince her to stay. I didn’t know exactly why it mattered so much to me, but I wasn’t going to take the time to analyze that now.

  I walked into the barn. Priscilla and Stephen were at the back, inside Voyager’s stall. They were talking in gentle tones, and Stephen was brushing Voyager with the purple curry brush that was Priscilla’s. Comet, curled up just outside the stall, was gnawing on a plastic milk jug. He thumped his tail when he saw me coming. When I reached Priscilla and Stephen, they both looked up.

  “Hello, Jake,” she said, her tone affirming that she knew I’d been informed of what she had decided to do.

  “Priscilla’s going to Indiana to live with her great-aunt,” Stephen volunteered, his voice sad and enthusiastic at the same time. “She’s letting me take care of Voyager for her.”

  “So I heard,” I said, my eyes never leaving Priscilla’s.

  She looked away first.

  “Stephen, would you mind giving me a moment with Priscilla? I need to tell her something.”

  After a beat, he seemed to realize I was asking him to leave us. “Oh. Okay.” He handed the brush to Priscilla, reached up to pat the horse, and then walked past me. He turned to her as he went. “Danke, Priscilla. I will take good care of him.”

  “Ya. I know you will,” she said as she resumed brushing where Stephen had left off.

  He whistled for Comet, and the dog trotted happily after him. Once the boy was no longer in hearing range, she looked at me with pleading in her eyes.

  “Don’t let them take Voyager back to the auction ring,” she said softly. “He really can learn to be useful here. Don’t let them, okay?”

  “He’s not my horse, Priscilla. Not my choice.”

  “You know what I mean. Uncle Amos promised me he wouldn’t. Just make sure he keeps that promise, okay? It may take a while, but I’m going to save up enough money to pay for Voyager’s transport out to Indiana.”

  I couldn’t imagine going to all that trouble—for a mere Thoroughbred, no less—but I knew Amos was a man of his word. I was trying to decide whether to remind her of that or try to talk her out of the idea entirely when I saw the look on her face. She was so earnest that in the end I simply replied, “Okay. I’ll make sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  I took a step closer to her. “Don’t do this.”

  She turned her head to me as she brushed. I couldn’t read her expression. “Do what?”

  I felt heat rush into my face. “Don’t use what happened…with us, last night, as your excuse for leaving. That’s not the real reason you’ve decided to go.”

  She stared at me for a long moment and then turned away again, intent on her brushing. “It’s not?” she asked, her voice strangely calm. “Then what is?”

  I sucked in a deep breath, willing her to understand. “You’re leaving because of your mother.”

  Her brush strokes paused only a second. “My mother.”

  “Yes. Because of what really happened the day she died.”

  Priscilla again froze for a brief moment, and then she shifted farther along the horse and launched back into her brushing with vigor.

  “What do you think happened, Jake? Go ahead, tell me. Clearly, you’ve uncovered some big secret.”

  “It’s just a theory,” I said, watching her work. “I mean, how could I really know for sure? You hide everything from me.”

  She raised one eyebrow, so I added, “From everybody.”

  “If I hide everything, then what makes you so certain my leaving has to do with my mother?”

  “Because it’s so obvious—to everyone.”

  “Everyone?”

  I shrugged. “Well, to Roseanna and me. But I know Amos will see it too once he finds out you’re going. As will Amanda.”

  Priscilla’s hand stilled for a second. Then she continued brushing. Instinctively, I reached out and placed my hand on top of hers. A tingling sensation seemed to course through me. She must have sensed it. She turned her head quickly to face me as though my hand had trapped hers.

  “Priscilla, please. Don’t run away from what happened here back then. You can’t live your life regretting things this way.”

  She pulled her hand out slowly from underneath mine. “You know nothing about the past or what I would do differently if I could go back.”

  “I know that even now you still blame yourself for your mother’s death. When all is said and done, you still believe that you killed her, don’t you?” There seemed to be no way of avoiding the question anymore. The time for polite pretense was over.

  Priscilla’s eyes widened for just a moment and then grew narrow as her gaze locked on mine. “Is that what you think?”

  “Do you?”

  She turned back to her horse and stroked his head. “It’s pretty simple, Jake. If I had made different choices that day, she wouldn’t have died.”

  “Our days are numbered by God.”

  “That doesn’t mean the choices we make are without consequences.”

  “So that’s it, then? You’re leaving here with a buggy load of unfinished business you’ll carry with you until the day you die? That’s the kind of life you want?”

  She closed her eyes and seemed to draw strength from the warmth of Voyager’s body under her hands. “I’m doing the best I can,” she said a moment later.

  But I
sensed hesitation in every word. She was escaping to Indiana, not returning. She was running away, very much like the last time when she had been sent away. She and I both knew it.

  “Why did you even come back? If all this was for nothing, why did you even come?”

  She placed the brush inside the bucket hanging on the rail post. “You and I have discussed this before. You know full well that I came here because I believed that’s what God was telling me He wanted me to do.”

  “Exactly. Don’t you think it was for a reason? And now you’re leaving before you’ve even managed to figure out why.”

  She seemed to think on this for a moment. “Maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe I only thought this is what the Lord wanted me to do.” She frowned as though she didn’t even believe it herself. “Look. I retraced my steps and revisited every moment. I don’t know… there isn’t… I think it’s time I moved on.”

  Her cheeks had blossomed crimson as she struggled to complete her thoughts. She would not make eye contact with me.

  “Is this about last night?” I said, heat rising to my cheeks a little too. “I promise you, that won’t happen again.”

  Priscilla winced when I said this, as though I had burned her with a hot iron. “It’s just time for me to go.”

  “Because I almost kissed you?”

  “Because of a lot of things.”

  “But you’ve fixed nothing!” I exclaimed. “Surely God brought you back here to put to rest once and for all that it was just an accident that your mother fell. Do you really think she’d want you to be hanging on to this, unable to envision a life of happiness for yourself?”

  “Hanging on to what?” Priscilla asked, her tone heavy with disappointment and uncertainty. As I’d said earlier, she was using my mistake the day before as a cover-up for the real reason she was going back to Indiana, I was sure of it. She couldn’t live with the daily reminders of what she had done, so she was heading back to a place where there weren’t any.