Horseshoe Joe sat in his chair with his leg cast propped up on a padded stool that Jacob’s brother Noah had made for him.
“We were just talking about you,” Samuel said.
Jacob raised his eyebrows as he approached with iced tea and cookies and set them down. “What about?”
“Joe wants to ask you something,” his father said.
He glanced back and forth between the two older men. “Ja?” He was pleased to note that Joe looked much better since his return home nearly two weeks before. The color had returned to the older man’s cheeks. But Joe couldn’t get around well yet.
Joe tried to adjust his leg, and Jacob’s dat helped him shift it to a more comfortable position. “You must know that I still have weeks of recovery before me.” Jacob nodded. “I go back to the doctor next Tuesday.” The older man suddenly seemed uncertain. “I was wondering, Jake...”
Concerned, Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is it, Joe?”
“Would ya consider taking over for me until I’m well?” Joe asked quickly. Seated next to him in a wooden chair, Jacob’s father was nodding.
Jacob stepped back. “You want me to take over your work in the shop?” He thought of Annie. Maybe he shouldn’t accept the job. He didn’t want to antagonize the woman further, if he could help it. But how could he deny Joe his assistance, especially since the thought of returning to the art of blacksmithing tempted him?
Joe nodded. “If you would. I know you’re busy, but you would be a big help, if you could. If not, I’ll understand.” He reached up to rub his bearded chin. “I’ll pay you for your work.”
“Nay, if I do this, you’ll not be paying me.” Jacob picked up the cookies, placed them within Joe’s reach and then chose to sit across the room. He suffered a moment of doubt but couldn’t ignore the expectant look on Horseshoe Joe’s face. He sighed inwardly. Annie wouldn’t like it, but he had to help out Joe. “I’ll be more than happy to help you, Joe.” While the idea of working in the shop thrilled him, it also gave him a little chill. “It’s been years since I helped—bothered—you with my interest in blacksmithing. I was only a boy.”
“At twelve, you were hardly a boy. You have a talent for the job, son. I had faith in you then, and I have faith that you can do the work now.” He grinned. “And I’ll be nearby if ya happen to need me.”
“Josiah doesn’t want to step in?”
Joe shook his head. “He never learned about forging metal, never wanted to. You are the only one who took an interest in my work and my business. You and my girls, Annie and Barbara, who liked to watch when they were younger.”
“And I liked to be in the thick of everything,” Jacob agreed.
“Ja, you did.” Joe exchanged glances with Jacob’s father.
“Will you do it, Jake?” his father asked.
“Heat and bend metal, watch it glow?” Jacob grinned. “Ja, I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Annie asked as she entered the room with clear glasses. She set them down, picked up the pitcher and began to pour out the tea.
“Jacob’s agreed to fill in for me at the shop,” Joe said.
“That’s nice of him,” Annie said after a lengthy pause. When she shot him an angry glance, Jacob raised an eyebrow at her.
He noted a bit of flour dust on her cheek and in her hair. She wore a patchwork apron over a spring-green dress. A few strands of her blond hair had escaped from the edge of her prayer kapp, where she must have wiped cinnamon from her forehead with the back of her hand. The cinnamon was still there—barely. He could detect the scent rather than see any of the spice’s warm brown color.
As she worked to fill each glass, he watched emotion play across her features. It moved so fast no one else might have noticed, but he did. She wasn’t happy that he’d be coming to the farm daily. She hadn’t known about her father’s plan. Jacob felt a smile start, but he stifled it until she briefly looked his way, and then he released it.
“That will be a great help to Dat,” she said, turning away, and his amusement grew.
“Ja, I’ll be around to help every day—” he glanced toward Joe “—or whenever ya need me to come.”
“Can you start tomorrow?” Joe asked.
Jacob looked to his father. “Can you make do without me on the farm?”
His dat nodded. “I’ve plenty of help.” He turned toward his friend. “Tomorrow will be fine, Joe.”
“Then I’ll be here then.” Jacob watched Joe reach for a cookie. Recalling his enjoyment of his first one, he reached for another. Annie Zook was a fine baker. He flashed Annie an admiring glance as she turned to stare at him, before she looked away. He continued to study her. For some reason, she always found fault with him. He didn’t know what bothered her about him, but he was sure he’d find out eventually. For now, he had to concentrate on doing a good job at Zook’s Blacksmithy. “I’ll not let you down, Joe,” he said.
Horseshoe Joe swallowed before answering. “Never thought ya would.” He grinned as he brought the cookie to his lips. “I know you’ll do me proud,” he said before taking another bite.
“If not,” Dat said, “he’ll have to answer to me.” His teasing tone made Jacob smile.
“It’s not you I worry about, Dat.”
“Nay, it’s your mudder.” And the three men laughed together at his father’s remark, while Annie scurried out of the room.
Jacob stood in the center of Zook’s Blacksmithy and examined the shop. He felt a little nervous pull in his gut. Could he do this and do it well? His attention focused on the tools hanging on the wall: metal tongs, cross-peen hammers and other various tools for shaping metal, before it moved to the steel anvil not far from the brick forge.
You must be careful you don’t burn yourself, Jacob, Joe had warned him time and again when he was a boy. Hold these tongs just so— The man had shown him how to use the tool. These will get hot, as well. He had gestured toward his leather apron. This garment protects my clothes from sparks and heat.
One particular day after Jacob, as a young boy, had been coming to the shop for weeks, Joe had pulled out a slightly smaller version of his leather apron and handed it to him. Jacob had accepted the garment with wide eyes, pleased that Joe trusted him enough to let him try his hand at blacksmithing.
The memory of Joe’s patient voice calmed him. Suddenly, everything within the shop seemed familiar again. He just had to remember all the things that Joe had taught him, and he’d do fine.
“Jacob.”
Startled, Jacob spun, surprised to see Joe in his wheelchair. Annie stood behind him in the open doorway, looking beautiful in a light blue dress, black apron and with a white prayer kapp on her golden-blond hair. She appeared concerned for her father. In direct contrast, Horseshoe Joe looked pale beneath his white-streaked brown beard. He had left his hat in the house, and his tousled graying hair made him look much older than his forty-some years. “Joe, ya shouldn’t be here. You should be resting and recovering.”
Joe nodded. “I just wanted to check in on your first day here. Is there anything you need? Anything you want to know?”
The memory of Joe’s teachings gave Jacob the confidence to smile. “I remember everything you taught me. I’ll be fine.”
“I