Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Shadows of Doubt

​The morning after their night at the lake, Leticia walked with a light, rhythmic step that felt entirely new to her. At only nineteen, her body still tingled with the residual warmth of the previous night. Making love to an older man like John had awakened sensations she didn't know existed—a deep, grounding fullness that made her feel both intensely grown-up and completely cherished.

​Anxious to see him and arrange their next secret rendezvous, she packed a fresh ham sandwich and a thick slice of homemade apple pie into a small basket, heading straight for the blacksmith shop.

​The heavy clang of iron echoed through the prairie town as she approached. John looked up, wiping sweat from his brow, his face instantly softening when he saw her. She set the basket down on his workbench, her eyes wide with hope as she asked when they could slip away again.

​John looked at the food, touched, but sighed as he gestured to the pile of ironwork waiting by the forge. "I’ve got so much work piling up today, Leticia," he said, his deep voice low so passersby wouldn't hear. "Being the only blacksmith out here keeps me chained to this anvil. But give me a couple of days. We'll find our time."

​Though slightly disappointed, Leticia nodded understandingly and turned to leave. As she stepped out onto the dirt road, one of the Carter boys—a young man right around her own age—ran up to her, calling her name. John watched from the dark interior of the shop as the boy started talking animatedly. Leticia smiled, and the two of them laughed together at some local gossip before parting ways and walking in separate directions.

​Inside the forge, John’s grip tightened around his hammer until his knuckles turned white. A sudden, sharp pang of jealousy hit him so hard it made him physically uncomfortable. She was nineteen; the Carter boy was nineteen. John found himself suddenly hyper-aware of the years between himself and Leticia, and an uneasy restlessness settled deep in his chest.

​The feeling only festered. The next morning, John stood near the front of his shop, waiting to catch a glimpse of her dark chestnut hair walking toward the mercantile, just as he had done almost every single morning for the last eleven years.

​But the morning hours ticked by. Noon passed, and then the heat of the afternoon settled in. Leticia never came to town.

​By late afternoon, John’s mind began to spin. He remembered the easy laughter between Leticia and the Carter boy from the day before, and an unfamiliar, hot rage began to build inside him. Was she with him? Had she changed her mind about an older man? Unable to bear the silence any longer, John looked around his shop for an excuse—any excuse—to go to the farm where Leticia lived with her parents and three younger brothers.

​His eyes landed on a set of horseshoes that Leticia’s father had dropped off a few days prior to be reshaped. Grabbing them, John hitched his wagon and rode out toward the outskirts of the prairie, determined to find out why, for the first time in years, his Leticia hadn't walked by.

​When he arrived at the homestead, he found Leticia’s father working near the barn. John climbed down, keeping his composure as they conversed about the horseshoes, weather, and farmwork. But John’s eyes kept drifting toward the house.

​Then, from around the back of the log cabin, she appeared.

​When Leticia saw John standing there, her face lit up. "Oh, yes! You're here!" she blurted out, the excitement slipping before she instantly remembered that their passion was a strict secret. She caught herself, smoothing her apron, and lowered her eyes respectfully. "Good day, Mr. Kellogg."

​John felt the heavy knot of rage in his chest instantly dissolve at the sight of her. A knowing sparkle entered his eyes, and a half-smile tugged at his lips. "Good day, Miss Leticia."

​Leticia saw that look and immediately understood the real reason behind the blacksmith's sudden delivery. Wanting to put any of his doubts to rest, she stepped closer to the barn, keeping her tone casual for her father's sake.

​"I didn't get a chance to walk into town and wave today," she said softly, her eyes locked onto his. "I've been stuck in the kitchen since dawn, helping my momma bake pies for the church social this coming Sunday."