Read Online The Amish Blacksmith by Mindy Starns Clark - Free Book Online

he’s not yours.”
    â€œNo.”
    She placed a hand on her chest, her expression one of deep relief.
    â€œThank goodness,” she said as we heard the bell calling us to breakfast from outside. “ ’Cause I was going to punch you if he was.”
    I laughed. “Punch me?”
    Her face grew more serious again. “He’s been abused, that horse,” she said as she moved past me. “By a man. Don’t wear your hat around him.”
    Priscilla stopped just inside the barn door and looked at me for a moment, perhaps making sure I understood. Then she turned and began running through the rain back to the house.
    I remained where I was for several long seconds, watching her go, dumbfounded.
    Then I grabbed my hat from the nearby hook, slapped it onto my head, and took off running as well.

F IVE
    T he rain tapered off during breakfast, giving way to the sun. Radiant beams spread over the wet landscape, turning every corn and alfalfa shoot visible from the kitchen windows a glistening green.
    I left the table first, grabbing another slice of apricot coffee cake to eat as I set off toward my cottage. I changed out of my muddy shoes, grabbed my wallet, and then headed over to the barn, where I set about hooking up Amos’s primary driving horse, Big Sam, to the family buggy.
    Despite my odd interaction with Priscilla earlier, breakfast had been a pleasant enough affair. Roseanna had asked her how she slept—because mothers and aunts always ask that question of houseguests—and Priscilla answered that she slept better than she thought she would. It was an honest answer gently given, I thought. The only uncomfortable part of the meal was when my gaze kept settling on the striking young woman across from me. It happened more than once without my really being aware of it, which wouldn’t have been bad except that she caught me. The only thing worse than being caught looking at someone is frantically darting your attention away from that person as soon as they do, which of course, he or she also sees.
    The thing was, I just kept wondering what she had been doing with Patch earlier, when I’d first seen her at his stall. Not only was I intrigued, but I felt I deserved to know. Trudy had left Patch in my care. I had a right to ask Priscillawhat she had been up to. I also very much wanted to know why she thought Patch had been abused, not by just anybody, but by a man specifically.
    Those were the two reasons why my attention drifted toward her while we ate. But I hadn’t felt right asking her with Roseanna and Amos there, because that would have revealed that not only had I seen Priscilla in the barn, but that I’d stayed and silently watched her for at least long enough to wonder what she’d been doing.
    Awkward.
    Instead, I’d just finished eating as quickly as I could and left. Now, as I was looping the last harness buckle in place, Amos and Priscilla emerged from the house.
    â€œHow about if you drive, Jake?” Amos said as they neared the buggy.
    Without a word, Priscilla climbed into the backseat, and then Amos and I took our places up front. Though it was just a little after eight, now that the rain had stopped the morning was already growing warm. I signaled the horse to go and then opened my window as Amos rolled down his and Priscilla fiddled with the one in back. As the breeze swept through, we made our way onto the macadam, shiny from the rain. Our destination was about ten or eleven miles away, depending on the route we took. That was about as far as Amos liked to take Big Sam, who at twenty-two was getting on in years.
    If we bought a horse for Priscilla today, I realized as we began to pick up speed, Amos would likely hire a delivery service to bring the animal home. That many miles on narrow two-lane streets populated not just by other buggies but cars and trucks as well was a long way to tow a horse you didn’t know much about. Too bad Amos