he never heard the rest because he realized it was five minutes past one and he was late. No doubt the bishop would relay that to his daddi and he’d be given extra chores, or perhaps they’d deliver yet another lecture. He absolutely hated lectures. It was difficult to sit there and act respectful and pretend to listen. He just did not understand old people. Best to avoid such a confrontation, so he broke into a run.
He was surprised when Thomas greeted him with a smile and no rebuke. “I was happy to hear you’d be here for a few months. I can use the help.”
“Don’t know as I’ll be that much help.”
“Does your mind work?”
“Excuse me?”
Thomas tapped the side of his head. He was tall for an Amish man, probably close to six feet. His beard was peppered with gray, and crow’s-feet stretched out from his eyes. He struck Micah as a man who smiled easily.
“Does your mind work? How did you do in school?”
“Oh, I did fine.”
“Then the work won’t be too hard for you to learn. It’s difficult physically... I’ll give you that. But anyone who is willing to learn the trade will always have a job.”
“Ya, always plenty of horses when Amish are around,” Micah joked.
“Exactly. Now, let’s get to work on Widower King’s buggy horse.”
Micah had never considered that he’d be straddling the leg of a thousand-pound beast. He’d lived around horses all of his life, but feeding a horse or harnessing it to a buggy was one thing. Getting that horse to raise its foot so you could trim away its hoof was another.
“A horse’s hooves are like our fingernails. They must be trimmed and exfoliated.” Thomas proceeded to show him how to cut off the excess growth, then clean and check the hoof for overall health. “It’s important that the horse trusts you. If you appear confident and act like you know what you’re doing, the horse will relax.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You will. Soon enough you will. See this triangle-shaped thing at the bottom of the hoof?”
“Sure.”
“That’s the frog. It acts as a shock absorber of sorts. We need to clean it up. Don’t want any ragged ends.”
“Why?”
“Gut question. We clean it so the dirt and muck is able to get out of the foot easier. Next we trim the hoof wall. Hand me the curved blade there on the shelf.”
Micah quickly did as asked. When Thomas was finished, he used a hoof nipper to trim the outside of the hoof wall, and then a rasp to even out everything.
“I never realized there was so much detail to shoeing a horse.”
“Few people do—they count on their farrier. Think of it as job security.” Thomas looked up and smiled. “Now let’s see what sized shoes we need.”
Susannah was tempted to find an excuse to visit her dat’s shop. How was Micah doing? And did he know anything about trimming hooves or shoeing horses? She knew firsthand that what her dat did was hard work. She’d sat in his workshop often enough and even helped him occasionally. She loved being around the animals whether they were buggy horses or workhorses.
It took her an hour to separate her fabric scraps by size and color. It was amazing what could be salvaged from one project to use in another. The process soothed her until she picked up the last piece of fabric and spied Micah’s phone in the basket. Why did he have such a thing? How much did he pay for it? And who did he stay in touch with?
Other Amish rebels?
Someone in his family who had left the faith?
Or maybe an Englisch girlfriend?
She dropped the phone into her apron pocket. It didn’t matter to her what Micah did with his phone, and she would set him straight that it wasn’t her place to keep him out of trouble. She didn’t think he was going to fit into their community very well. She didn’t think he even wanted to.
There’s a real possibility that what Micah needs most is not a girlfriend but simply a friend...
Remembering her mamm’s words caused her to feel a twinge of guilt. Perhaps he had a good reason for having the phone, though she couldn’t imagine what that might be.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
She was pulling laundry off the line while Shiloh and Sharon played on the trampoline when Micah came walking around the corner of the house.
He headed straight to the water hose and preceded to roll up his sleeves and wash his hands and arms. He even swiped some of the water on his neck, wetting the hair that curled there, and then he doused his face.
“We have indoor bathrooms.”
“I like washing up with a water hose.”
Susannah handed him a clean hand towel.
“Danki.”
“Gem gschehne.”
He rubbed his face dry, then his arms, and finally remembered that water was dripping down his neck. When he was finished, he held up the towel and asked, “Where should I—”
“I’ll take it.”
“Do you need help with the laundry?”
She inclined her head toward the empty clothesline.
“I could help fold.”
“Do you know how to fold clothes?”
“How hard can it be?” He peeked into her basket. “Oh. Looks like you’ve already folded everything.”
“It’s easier to do while you pull the items off the line.”
“I knew that.”
“Sure you did.” She moved closer to the trampoline so she could keep an eye on the girls.
Micah followed and plopped down on the grass. For reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, she did the same. It wasn’t that she was interested in Micah, but she was curious as to what made him tick. How did he become so unorthodox? And why? What was the point of rebelling against their conventions?
“Actually, I know nothing about housework.” He picked up their conversation as if there hadn’t been a long, awkward silence. “I’m the baby of the family.”
“Is that so?”
“Seven older schweschdern.”
“What
