The Amish Blacksmith (45 page)

Again he shook his head. “You've done nothing wrong, son. Just come up to the house when you're done.”

He turned from me, and I could tell his heart was heavy.

I quickened my pace, curious and yet hesitant regarding what Amos had to say. I gave Big Sam his breakfast and then headed for the main house.

Roseanna had made baked blueberry French toast, and the kitchen was rich with the scents of vanilla, cinnamon, and berries when I stepped inside. She greeted me warmly, but her eyes, like Amos's, were sad. She slid a large portion of French toast onto my plate, with a side of melon slices and sausage patties.

“This looks really good,” I said to her as she sat down with us with a smaller serving for herself. She smiled and said thank you.

Amos led us in silent prayer, and then we began to eat, the clink of forks on plates the only sound. Why were they being so quiet?

“Anyone else joining us?” I asked nervously, looking from one to the other.

Amos wiped his mouth with his napkin and then took a gulp from his coffee cup. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you this alone. I think you deserve that.”

A knob of cold dread immediately formed in my stomach. I put my fork down. “Are you letting me go?” I said, a half laugh making my voice crack a bit.

Amos rubbed his beard with his hand and sighed heavily. “It's not because I want to.”

The knob grew into a thudding boulder. I was losing my job. I waited for him to tell me why.

“Like I told you in the barn, you've done nothing wrong, Jake. You're a good blacksmith and I've been very pleased with your work. It has nothing to do with that.”

“What is it then?” I said, still in shock.

“As you know, it was always my intention that your apprenticeship would lead to your replacing Owen when he and Treva moved over to her father's place so that he could take on the dairy operation there.”

“
Ya
. That's been the plan.”

“Except I'm sorry to say it's not going to happen now. Treva's father decided to sell his herd and machinery. The dairy's been losing money for the past few years, and he won't have Owen taking on a business that can't support a family. It's a tough time to be a dairy farmer.”

“But Owen might be able to—”

“It's done. He's sold it. It doesn't matter what Owen might have been able to do. Owen's not leaving here, Jake.”

I had to think for a minute. “Okay, so he's not leaving. You still have more than enough shoeing for two people.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized what Amos was going to say. He shook his head, explaining that the welding business wasn't bringing in enough income to justify two workers.

“We've been operating with a deficit since May, and it's not getting any better. So now that we know Owen will be sticking around, we've decided to move Mahlon back over to the farrier side of things. The two of them will handle shoeing the horses, and I'll take care of the welding—what there is of it, anyway.”

I nodded. I understood. But I didn't have to like it.

“I wish I had another job for you here, but I don't,” Amos added. “And I hate to make things worse, but we've decided that Treva and Roseanna are going to start the guest cottage back up again too. It was a good source of income when Sharon had it. If we make these changes, we should be able to keep everybody in the family earning a livable income and Treva's
daed
's decision to sell won't affect us too badly.”

“The guest cottage,” I said numbly.

“We're so sorry, Jake,” Roseanna murmured. “I know you were doing a fine job of fixing it up too.”

“But… but I'm not even close to finished,” I stammered.

“You've worked hard while you lived here,” Amos said, “and you've certainly paid off any rent I would have charged with what you've done. But I can't pay you to continue with it, son. Mahlon and I will take up where you've left off. ”

I looked down at my plate, my breakfast half eaten. The sweetness in my mouth tasted like cardboard now.

“Your position here always hinged on Owen taking over for his father-in-law,” Amos continued. “We had no idea he would suddenly decide to sell. And I never expected the welding business to slow down like it has. I'm really sorry about this. About all of it.”

I nodded, wordless.

“I meant what I said. You're a fine blacksmith. And I'd be happy to recommend you to any blacksmith you want to work for. As far as I'm concerned, your apprenticeship is complete. You know what you're doing, and you're good at it.”

Your apprenticeship is complete.
I had longed to hear those words, but not this way. Not like this.

“Danke
. I appreciate that.”

“Owen and Mahlon feel bad about this. Especially Owen.”

No wonder Owen had been quiet lately. His planned-for future had been falling apart just as mine now was.

The three of us were quiet for a few moments.

“When do you want me gone?” I asked.

Roseanna reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “We don't
want
this at all.”

I nodded.

“We've been putting it off as long as we could, trying to think of another way,” Amos answered.

“So the sooner, the better.” I rose from the table, and Amos and Roseanna looked up at me. I could see how hard this had been for them.

“We're so sorry,” Roseanna said.

“Don't you worry. I'll be all right. God provides.”

I pushed in my chair and thanked them for breakfast. Amos stood and shook my hand.

“You're a good man, Jake.”

As I turned to leave them, I wondered what made me good. I didn't feel good. I had nothing now.

I was as empty outside as I felt inside.

I stepped back out into the warm, humid air of the early August morning. “God, what are You doing?” I whispered.

As I headed for the cottage to pack my few things, I sensed Him whispering back to me.

Answering your prayer, Jake.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Last night I'd asked God to show me what I needed to do to free my heart from the fortress I'd built around it. With no job and no place to live and no girl to court, I had nowhere else to go but back home to
Daed
and
Mamm
.

Back where the answers likely waited.

Back where I began.

T
HIRTY
-T
WO

M
y parents welcomed me home with open arms, as I knew they would. They understood my disappointment, but they could also sympathize with Amos and Roseanna. My room upstairs in their home was as I had left it before I went to Missouri for farrier school, and it was mine again now for as long as I wanted or needed it.

Daed
also offered me a position back in the buggy shop, even though I knew he had given my spot to one of my cousins and I'd just be in the way. I told him thanks but that I wanted to keep doing what I was doing. I'd never been more satisfied with my day-to-day work than I had been as a full-time blacksmith.

Dear Priscilla,

I wanted to let you know, when you get a chance to write back, that you shouldn't use the address at Amos and Roseanna's. They may have already told you, but I'm no longer working or living there. Use my
new address (well, my old address too) that's on this envelope.

I'm not thrilled about it, but, like a horse, I must be willing to go wherever my Master takes me.

Sincerely,

Jake

P.S. Willow seems a lot happier to be back home than I am.

I told my parents the news about Amanda and me that first night, at supper. Neither seemed surprised. In fact, their reaction came across as relief.

“You didn't like her?” I said, laughing a bit to ease the tension.

“Oh, we liked her very much,”
Mamm
replied. “But you and she… I don't know. It wasn't the right match. I was worried—and your
daed
too—that you would want to propose too soon. And that in the end you'd both be unhappy.”

“But why?” I pressed. “I thought we were just right for each other.”

“Tyler said it best after the family picnic,”
Daed
interjected. “He said the two of you were like oil and oil.”

I frowned. “As opposed to what? Oil and water? Oil and vinegar?”

Daed
shook his head. “He was talking about lamp oil. To burn a lamp, you need oil and you need a wick. Two different things that combine to make a flame. You and Amanda weren't oil and a wick. You were just oil and oil. No wick. No flame.”

Mamm
took it from there. “He was saying that similarities are good in a couple, but only if they allow you to bring out the best in each other. When it goes the other direction, when they reinforce the worst of who you are, then that person isn't good for you the way they should be—even if they are a good person. Do you see what we mean?”

“I think I do. But I have to ask… ” I looked from one to the other. “What do you see as the worst of who I am? Was there something bad Amanda was bringing out in me?”

“Not bad, not at all,”
Mamm
said. “Just… ” Her voice faded as she gestured helplessly for the right words.

“Well?”

She looked to my father, who reached across the table and covered her hand with his. Then his eyes met mine.

“The marriage vows aren't to be taken lightly, Jake. Life is not to be taken lightly.”

“I have to ask you both a question,” I said, my voice nearly snagging in my throat. It had been almost four weeks now since Priscilla went away, leaving her challenge behind. And though I had spent much of the time since then ruminating on her words and wondering how I might ever get to the truth, it wasn't until this moment that I had finally summoned the nerve to say what needed to be said. If something had happened in my past that taught me to bury my emotions, I really wanted to know what it was. I really wanted to find the answer.

“Have I always been this way?”

“What way?”

“Unemotional. Shallow. So… cavalier about everything.”

They didn't answer right off, and suddenly the room felt very quiet, so quiet I could hear not just the ticking of the kitchen clock, but the very movement of its hands. As I waited for whatever it was they were going to tell me, I felt myself growing acutely aware of this moment, this place where God had plunked me down, back at my childhood home, with nothing to my name but a duffel bag, my horse, a courting buggy, and my farrier tools.

“You're none of those things,”
Mamm
said at last, but there was an odd avoidance in her eyes. “A shallow man wouldn't even think to ask such a question. And you were never cavalier with Amanda's affections, were you?”

I shook my head.

“As for unemotional, you're one of the kindest souls I've ever known. So there you go. You are none of those things.”

Daed
nodded in agreement, his bushy beard bobbing against his collar.

They didn't get it.

“That's not what I'm saying.” I looked from one to the other, searching for the right words. “I don't feel anything deeply. It's as though everything with me is always somewhere up near the surface. What I want to know is if I have always been like this, or if something happened to make me this way.”

Again, an odd silence descended over the table before my father finally spoke.

“You're a man, son. God designed men for action, for protection. For strength. Feelings—or the lack of them—are beside the point.”

I looked over at my mother, but her eyes were cast toward her plate. I returned my attention to him.