Page 33 of The Blacksmith’s Wish

Even the wagon beneath her.

There existed only one very handsome blacksmith surrounded by fire and flying sparks.

“Oi!” The shout shattered her trance.

Merlin, her mule, had come to a complete stop. Not only had he stopped but he had buried his nose deep into a merchant’s vegetable display and was enthusiastically helping himself to breakfast.

“Oh, merciful heavens!” She tugged sharply on the reins. “Come away!”

The mule ignored her completely, apparently convinced the colorful display had been arranged solely for his dining pleasure.

A vendor grabbed at the animal’s muzzle, trying to rescue what remained of his vegetables. “Leave my carrots, ye greedy beast!”

The mule simply leaned harder into the stall.

Crunch. Another carrot disappeared.

By now several villagers had paused to watch.

Effie groaned aloud. “Ye troublesome creature!”

She scrambled from the wagon and marched toward the mule, skirts tangling around her ankles, making her stumble before regaining her balance. She grabbed at the mule’s harness and tried to pull it back, but Merlin wouldn’t budge.

Instead, he calmly reached for another carrot. “Oh, nay ye don’t.” She gave him a firm swat on the side of his head.

“Stop that this instant!” Startled, the mule jerked upright. His mouth popped open and a plump orange carrot tumbled onto the cobblestones and landed squarely at Effie’s feet.

For one heartbeat, complete silence settled over the square. Then laughter erupted. Children giggled. Someone whistled. Even a few of the women chuckled behind their hands.

Heat flooded Effie’s cheeks so quickly she feared smoke might soon escape her ears.

Of all the mornings. Of all the places.

She steadfastly refused to look toward the blacksmith’s shop.

“I am so very sorry,” she said, kneeling to gather the scattered vegetables. “I shall gladly pay for everything he has eaten.” She glanced at the half-devoured display. “…or attempted to eat.”

The merchant folded his arms.

“He has never done this before,” she offered hopefully.

The man merely stared.

Effie sighed. “Very well…he has done it once before.”

Another unimpressed stare.

“Perhaps twice.”

The vendor snorted. “That mule of yers is a menace. Ye’d do better leaving him at the mill. He’s more goat than mule.”

Effie scratched the offender behind one floppy ear. The beast chose that exact moment to retrieve the abandoned carrot from the ground and resume chewing with obvious satisfaction.

Digging into the pocket of her apron, she counted out enough coins to more than repay the loss and placed them into the merchant’s weathered hand. “My apologies again.”

The vendor accepted the payment with a grumble.

As Effie climbed back into the wagon, she dared one quick glance toward the forge.