The Blacksmith

She whirled around in fright, her heart in her throat.

"Oh my, you startled me!" she squealed. Her heart was pounding. She was so astonished. She didn't think anyone was around. It's like he came out of nowhere. She squinted trying to make out who the stranger was. He took another step forward coming more clearly into view. It was the blacksmith. He had obviously seen her from his shop, he was standing just in front of it wearing the same apron and smudged face as earlier.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. You just looked like you needed some assistance," he waited for her invitation before taking another step closer to her.

"Oh, yes. I would love some help, thank you." She quickly tucked her key back safely under the front of her dress. He noticed but did not say anything.

He walked up to her until he was standing at her side. He reached down collecting one of her buckets from the ground. She could smell the metal and muscle that emanated from his clothing, but she decided she didn't hate it. It was just evidence that he was a hard worker.

He took the rope and demonstrated how to fasten it to the bucket and lower it down into the well. He did all of this without speaking a word. It wasn't uncomfortable though, being in his presence.

"You will be able to feel it when it reaches the bottom," he finally said. He had a very deep voice, but it wasn't unsettling.

"Here," he offered her the rope. "Can you feel it hitting the bottom?"

He showed her how to lower and lift it and she could feel the difference. There was slack in the rope when the bucket hit the water at the bottom.

"Let it sit at the bottom a few moments before pulling it back up. That way the bucket has a chance to fill."

She nodded. He took the rope from her and pulled the bucket back up. It didn't appear to be strenuous for him at all.

"Okay, now you try," he offered. She stared at him with grateful wonder. This man was teaching her how to do this without an inkling of judgment. She was so grateful for that. She struggled attaching the second bucket to the rope and he had to show her again how to tie the knot. For a moment, their fingers brushed and it made her heart race again. His hands were big, and his fingers thick and black from work but again, weirdly, it didn't repulse her. She found it endearing.

She lowered the bucket down the well once it was attached properly and she felt it hit the bottom. She left it to sit there a moment as he instructed. She looked at him for assurance that she had waited long enough. He nodded and she began pulling on the rope to lift it. It was doable at first but as she pulled the bucket it started to feel heavier. She bent her knees and put her weight into it to try to gain as much momentum as she heaved the bucket up. She started to sweat with the excursion. He waited and watched quietly but he didn't help. The bucket was nearly in view when the rope slipped through her sweaty hands. He instantly snached the slipping rope before the bucket had a chance to fall far back into the well. He held the rope while she whipped her hands on her skirt and readjusted her grip. Once she was reset he handed the rope back to her and she pulled it the rest of the way up.

"This is the tricky part when you are on your own. Wrap your arm around the rope to secure it while you reach for the bucket with your other hand." She did as he instructed. She knew she looked ridiculous. This was so much easier for him she grumbled to herself. He was stronger and taller making it easier for him to reach the bucket and have leverage. She could almost hear her daddy chiding her. 'Stop complaining and just do it.' He would have said if he was here. Despite her disadvantage, she did it. She grabbed a hold of the swinging bucket and placed it on the edge of the well.

"Whew!" she said with relief. "I did it!" she exclaimed. The blacksmith almost smiled at her proclamation, but not quite. She thought of her dad. She could almost feel him place a congratulatory hand on her shoulder. She smiled thinking about her father and wished he was there.

"Thank you so much," she said as she caught her breath. "I'm afraid I was completely clueless," she admitted.

He nodded acknowledging that that was no surprise to him.

"You're Sophie I presume?"

"Yes, how did you know?" She had a pretty good suspicion about how he knew.

"Jeremiah," he said with a shrug. "He talked about you. Even showed me your portrait."

"Well, that is more than a little embarrassing, but also very sweet." she said, still out of breath. "I am very sorry I didn't get to meet him. From what I've heard he is a very good man."

"That he was," the blacksmith said. His eyes looked sad.

"Was he a very good friend of yours?"

He nodded. "He was friends with everyone really but he spent a lot of time in my shop talking to me while I worked." He was looking out into the distance like he was lost in a memory. "He was so excited for your arrival. Got us all excited right along with him." Sophie felt a growing affection for Jeremiah and a physical warmth in her heart.

She smiled a toothless smile. "I feel like I'm experiencing a great loss myself but that is foolish isn't it? I never met him."

That seemed to please the blacksmith.

"You were very kind to that other woman on the boat." She gave him a puzzled look. "I saw you at the dock help the tavern keeper's new wife. That was kind of you," he explained.

"She's my friend," she said with a shrug. "Is kindness uncommon around here?"

"No, well maybe a little. I think," he paused to consider his words. "We all knew you were a high class lady. We really don't have anyone from your same social station in our city. We were all worried you would be too snooty, too good for the rest of us I guess. I was worried for Jeremiah. But now that I see you. I think you would have been a great match."

"Well," she said considering. "That makes me more sad that I didn't meet him. As far as being too good for the rest of you. How can I be? I am one of you, aren't I?" She had a flash of panic. "Am I not? Will I not be accepted here? I am an utter idiot when it comes to surviving here. Maybe everyone will hate me?" Her voice was high and panicking.

"No, no" he tried to reassure her. "It might take some time, but you're going to fit in just fine." She was not convinced. She slumped against the well, worry all over her face.

"No I'm not. I couldn't even get my own water. You just saw how foolish I am. I've never even drawn my own bath." She crossed her arms over her stomach. This was going to be such a disaster. She did not fit in here. She probably would have made it with Jeremiah, he sounded like he would have been patient and kind with her deficiencies seeing as he was already in love with her. But on her own? She was doomed to fail. She was probably going to starve to death here.

"I will help you," he said, interrupting her inward pity party.

"Why would you do that?" she asked. Her voice was that of a mouse.

"Because Jeremiah was my friend. And he would want me to."

"Are you sure you can handle it? I don't think you understand just how much help I am going to need." She was disgusted with herself.

"Well, I will do the best I can. Let's start with the bath," he said, picking up the buckets of water. He started carrying them towards the governor's house and she ran to catch up to him