Page 21 of The Blacksmith’s Wish

He was speaking with her.

Actually speaking with her.

Effie’s pulse quickened. She told herself it was annoyance, nothing more.

“Ah,” Beitris said knowingly, looking to Anne. “Peigi appears to be searching for a new prospect. Yer poor brother.”

Anne watched the interaction for a moment before chuckling. “I think Gowan is perfectly capable of protecting himself.” Her smile softened. “Though I do wish he would marry someday. Not Peigi,” she added quickly. “Someone kind. Someone who would make him happy.”

“Dutiful, ye mean?” Effie asked.

Anne nodded.

Effie snorted softly. “The man has lived alone most of his life. I suspect he can wash his own clothes and cook his own meals. Whoever marries him will require patience more than anything. He seems quite attached to his solitude.”

“Not nearly as attached as he wishes everyone to believe,” Anne replied.

Effie’s gaze snapped toward her.

Anne smiled. “He breaks his fast at our home most mornings. And I gifted him Silas because I felt he needed companionship.” Her smile widened. “Besides, he spends most of every day with his apprentice. Gowan is alone far less often than people imagine.”

A burst of laughter rang across the square, and all three women looked up.

Peigi had thrown her head back in delight, her hand still clutching Gowan’s arm.

In contrast, Gowan stood perfectly still. Like a stag caught in a hunter’s sights.

Effie’s jaw tightened. “There is nothing that amusing,” she said. The words emerged sharper than intended, so she immediately softened her tone. “What I mean is that I’ve never heard Gowan say anything remotely humorous.”

Anne and Beitris exchanged a look. The sort women exchanged when they knew something another woman did not.

Effie disliked it instantly.

A smile tugged at Anne’s lips. “Perhaps ye should walk over and rescue my brother.”

Effie’s eyes widened. “Rescue him?”

“Aye.” Anne’s eyes danced with amusement. “I believe I misjudged his ability to defend himself.”

All three women looked toward Gowan.

The blacksmith’s expression remained stoic. But even from across the square, he looked deeply uncomfortable. Positively trapped.

Beitris laughed softly. “The poor man appears petrified.”

Despite herself, warmth spread through Effie’s chest. And for the first time since Peigi had approached him, she smiled. “Aye, I think I will walk over. It will be fun.”

Dusting off her skirts, Effie stood and looked down at her friends. “Although I dinnae think Gowan requires assistance, I will go and untangle him from Peigi. After how she treated ye, Anne, I am nae pleased with her.” Years past, Peigi had once started a vicious rumor about Anne that had caused Anne considerable heartache.

Walking across the square, her bravery turned into a nervous energy. Ideas circled in her head. She should have come up with a plan before embarking on the situation.

By the time Effie crossed the square, every clever thing she’d ever said had deserted her. Her heart hammered far too loudly for the short distance she’d walked, and her mouth had gone as dry as old parchment.

Wonderful. The one time she actually wanted to speak to Gowan, her wits abandoned her.

Then inspiration struck. “Gowan,” she called, injecting just enough urgency into her voice to make him turn. “Ye promised to help me keep the fire going beneath the meat pies.”

She gestured dramatically toward the iron grill he’d forged. “There is scarcely any smoke.”