The Baker and the Blacksmith Read online

  The Baker and the Blacksmith

  By A.J. Shay

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2022 A.J. Shay

  SBN 9781685502904

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Dedicated to those who are brave enough to be themselves.

  * * * *

  The Baker and the Blacksmith

  By A.J. Shay

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 1

  Thunder crackled loudly above Daniel. Even with his hands shaking from the cold, he somehow managed to turn the large brass key into its lock. He was alone in every possible way. The reality of it should have filled him with dread, but instead he felt a kernel of hope in his chest. He had been given a chance to escape, and he was damn well going to take it. The year was 1902. He was young, single, and ready for his life to begin.

  * * * *

  Milford, Pennsylvania, was a small and quiet town. Daniel was still fairly new to it, but he had already fallen in love with his life there. New York City had been exciting, but the hustle and bustle, as well as the judging eyes of his family, had taken a toll on him. For being a city boy, small-town life fit him surprisingly well. Something Daniel especially loved about the rural city was the early mornings. The air was still crisp, and the sounds of the town muted. It was a peaceful time of reflection and when Daniel liked to get most of his baking done.

  It had been an easy decision to accept running his uncle’s bakery after he passed. The man had been a bachelor, like Daniel, who had never had children of his own. The reading of the will had been a shock to everyone in the family, but Daniel’s move to Milford had been an even greater one.

  It was barely dawn when Daniel heard the tinkling of a bell, signaling the entrance of an early morning customer. He set aside his dough and wiped his floury hands on his apron before walking toward the front of the shop, ready to greet the first customer of the day.

  Something Daniel did not love about Milford was Adrian Dane.

  “Good morning, Adrian.” Daniel smiled politely as the town blacksmith squeezed through the front door, letting in a draft of cold air with him. Even though they were about the same age, Adrian must have been at least a foot taller than him. His presence seemed to fill whatever room he entered.

  “Sure,” the burly man replied casually as he examined the loaves and pastries on display. Daniel shouldn’t have been surprised at the early hour; Adrian was usually his first customer of the day.

  He’d been shocked when Adrian had first started frequenting the shop, since Daniel was convinced that the man hated him. Upon moving to Milford, Daniel found that most people had been exceedingly friendly and welcoming, but Adrian had nearly run the other way when they’d first made eye contact. After that, it was mumbled greetings, if Adrian had spoken to him at all. Now it was blatant teasing at his expense. Daniel knew that he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but most people at least put on the pretense of kindness.

  “He’s always been a prickly one,” Mrs. Lillian had assured him at the time. “Don’t take it personally.”

  The problem was, it really wouldn’t do to have the only blacksmith in town completely loathe him, so Daniel tried his best to be friendly. He was very glad for his exceptional baking skills. Otherwise, he was sure Adrian wouldn’t even attempt to tolerate him. Daniel often wondered what he’d done to make such a horrible first impression, but there was no point in fretting about it now.

  “Can you please leave that thing outside?” Daniel asked, pointing to Adrian’s lit cigarette. “I don’t like the smoke getting on the food.”

  Adrian took another deep drag before he opened the front door and flicked the cigarette directly out on the pavement. “Sorry, forgot.”

  Daniel highly doubted that, but held his tongue. “How can I help you this morning?”

  Adrian scratched the dark stubble on his jawline. “Do you actually have anything fresh today?”

  “Do I have anything fresh?” Daniel huffed. “Are you insinuating I’ve been selling—”

  The corner of Adrian’s mouth twitched upward. He was poking fun at him, again.

  Daniel exhaled deeply, attempting to recenter himself. “I just finished this batch of meat pastries, so they’re still warm. I assume you could use the protein, with such a physically demanding job.”

  Adrian nodded, signaling he would take the pasties to go. “More demanding than baking, I assume.”

  Daniel bristled at the subtle jab. “Yes, well…” he trailed off in lieu of a comeback. “Baking is a science. It’s still very difficult.” Which is why you shop here for baked goods rather than make your own. “It’s takes time to become good at doing it.”

  “Isn’t that true for every profession?” Adrian countered.

  Daniel set down the pastries with more force than necessary. “That’ll be two dollars.”

  Adrian nodded in a manner that appeared grateful before pulling out some coins and setting them on the counter. Daniel delicately wrapped the items in a cloth before handing them over. “Have a nice day.”

  “Yeah,” Adrian said as he exited the shop.

  Daniel was sure he’d come back later. Adrian was his most loyal customer, usually picking up something both in the morning and evening. It only served to baffle him further.

  * * * *

  By the time lunch rolled around, Daniel’s stomach was growling. Normally, he’d nibble on his own concoctions when feeling peckish, but today he waited. He was meant to visit his friend Margaret at her apothecary during lunch. Though she mainly sold herbs and tonics, she’d made a lucrative side-business as a tarot reader, even if it was often looked down upon.

  After locking up his store, Daniel walked a few paces down the street. Milford was small and nearly all shops were within walking distance of each other. He opened the front door of Margaret’s shop and inhaled the heavily perfumed air. He switched over her sign to CLOSED before heading into the back room. He always looked forward to good company, a meal, and some gossip. The older woman hobbled forward and greeted him with a kiss on each cheek as she gestured for him to sit.

  “Look at you! Working in a bake shop, but you’re still skin and bones.”

  “I think you’ll find I’m a very healthy weight for my height,” Daniel said with a sniff.

  “And what a height it is!” She laughed. “You’re barely taller than an old woman.”

  “I’ll have you know that many people find my petite size adorable.” Most of his bullies growing up hadn’t, but there was no point in bringing that up now.

  “From what Mrs. Lillian says, most women find you adorable.”

  Daniel groaned. “Please, I can’t handle this conversation on an empty stomach.” Mrs. Lillian Archer helped run a tavern with her husband. She had been kind enough to help him settle when he’d moved to Milford, completely scared and alone. She’d developed a motherly relationship with him, meaning she was heavily invested in his love life. He didn’t have the heart to tell her, or anyone really, that he was very much not interested in women.

  “You must have better things to talk about,” Daniel said, attempting to change the subject.

  “You’re right! You won’t believe what Mr. Morganson’s been up to,” she started while placing some finger sandwiches on his plate.

  “Please tell.” He didn’t feel bad gossiping about that old busybody, especially since Morganson seemed to be the bane of everyone’s existence.

  “He’s been campaigning to clean up the town. He wants me to give up my tarot side-business because it has poor optics! I gave him an emphatic no. The man is a loon if he can boss all of Milford around.”

  “Has he been bothering anyone else?”

  Margaret nodded. “He’s trying to make Adrian Dane paint his storefront. He’s been pestering the poor man for weeks. I guess Adrian had enough of it and threw him out on his behind!” She guffawed.

  “That’s what he gets for irritating a man twice his size. Anyone should know better than to brawl with a blacksmith.” Daniel fel
t as if he were repeating the words for his own benefit.

  “Agreed. I doubt Adrian fears the devil himself. I think old Morganson would petition to get Mr. Dane evicted if he wasn’t so talented at his craft. He brings in loads of business for the town.” Margaret held up her knobby left hand, which showcased an intricate golden ring. “You know, he made this ring to commemorate my mother when she passed.”

  Daniel gently took her hand within his own to examine the piece of jewelry more closely. It appeared as if three separate rings had been woven together to create a crown of some sorts.

  “It’s stunning,” Daniel breathed reverently and somewhat reluctantly. How could someone so coarse create an object so delicate? “I’ve never seen anything like it, not even in any shops in New York.”

  “That’s why I commissioned him; I knew he could do the job right. That man could make a killing if he moved to New York and expanded his business.”

  “Why doesn’t he?” Daniel asked politely, now sipping his drink.

  “Why do people do or not do anything?” She shrugged. “You’ve become awfully popular here. Would you ever consider selling your uncle’s place and starting a bakery of your own in New York?”

  “Never,” he said, stomach twisting at the thought.

  Margaret gave him a questioning look.

  “The residents of Milford feel more like family than my relatives in New York,” he explained. “My relatives placed certain…expectations on me. I feel accepted here.”

  She pinched his cheek good-naturedly. “That’s because you are. I can see that you have a very strong future here.”

  “Are you giving me a reading for free?” he teased. “Do I need to tell Mr. Morganson?”

  “Hardly a reading,” she scoffed. “Though I could if you wanted me to.”

  Daniel shook his head. “No, I think some things are best left as surprises.”

  “Yes.” Margaret laughed. “And trust me when I say you have plenty of surprises heading your way.”

  Chapter 2

  With a full stomach and a parting word to Margaret, Daniel returned happily to his bakery, but his face dropped when he saw who was waiting for him outside. Daniel did his best to plaster on a smile he didn’t feel.

  “Hello, Mr. Prickson. How may I help you?”

  Simon Prickson had worked at the Milford Community Bank for most of his adult life. He was stout, blond, and generally described as an icky person. Men like Daniel and Adrian were bachelors by choice; Simon Prickson was not.

  “Danny,” he said with an oily smile. “What a pleasure. I’m here to discuss your monthly payment.”

  Daniel felt a pit form in his stomach. His uncle had taken out a loan on the bakery a few months before his death. Simon Prickson’s first appearance, and the outstanding sum his uncle owed, had come as a great shock. Daniel had been given a choice: default on the loan, forfeit the bakery, and return to New York; or pay off the debt and keep the sanctuary he’d found. The decision had been easy.

  “I’ve already paid the bank this month. What else is there to discuss?”

  “We’re upping your monthly bill.”

  “What?” Daniel gasped.

  “We’re changing your loan plan due to increased interest rates. You can expect an increase of twenty percent per month.”

  “B-But you can’t do that!” Daniel was barely keeping up with the payments as they were. A twenty percent increase would be nearly impossible.

  “I assure you we can do that.” Simon took a step closer and Daniel could smell that he reeked of aftershave. “If you have questions, you can come to mine this evening and negotiate further.”

  Daniel grimaced. He’d heard horrible rumors about Simon. He often invited desperate men and women to his home under the guise of negotiating loan payments. Daniel would have to be truly desperate to take him up on that offer.

  “That won’t be necessary.” He sighed. “I’ll have the new amount ready at the first of next month.”

  “Lovely.” Simon squeezed his shoulder before heading down the street. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

  His parting glance made Daniel’s skin crawl. An extra twenty percent! The bakery was pulling a profit, but he was barely making ends meet. He’d have to seriously cut back on his expenses to make due. He sighed again; that was something to ponder this evening. There was nothing to do now but keep his head down and work.

  * * * *

  After closing for the night, Daniel climbed the stairs to the studio apartment that sat above the bakery. He turned on a single light to guide his path. He’d need to keep the electricity bill down if the bank was increasing his loan payments. His stomach curdled with anger at the thought of Simon Prickson’s oily smile. The whole situation seemed so unfair; it could cause him to lose everything and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He turned on the only sink in the apartment and splashed water on his face to calm down. He ran his fingers through his mousy brown curls as he stared around the emptiness of his flat. There was no mistaking that only one person lived here. The sole possessions he had were those he’d brought from New York, which mostly consisted of his book collection.

  He crawled into his twin bed, which had never seen another person. He attempted to sleep, but only managed fruitless tossing and turning. How was he supposed to rest when a metaphorical guillotine hung above him? After two hours, he slipped out of bed and put on his boots. He decided that a walk in the brisk evening air would help him clear his head of all this loan business.

  The town park was only a few blocks away. The ducks wouldn’t be out this late, but at least he could see some trees and enjoy the cool air on his skin. The gravel sidewalk crunched loudly under his feet as he finally reached his destination. He breathed in deeply, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. He could feel his muscles relax slightly as he tried to focus on his surroundings.

  After a lap around the outer perimeter, he opted to sit on a bench that faced the pond water, which appeared to be an ominous black color in the dim light. He shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he’d brought a pair of gloves or hot drink with him. Not long afterward, he gave a loud yawn and decided it was time to head back to the warmth of his studio, but then he heard a pitiful mewling noise. Daniel quickly turned his head, scanning the area, but he couldn’t see anything in the grass.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” he ventured.

  Daniel was answered with an even louder meow, which seemed to emanate from a tree top. He tipped back his head and saw a white ball of fur desperately clinging to a branch.

  “Oh, dear!” he gasped. Knowing it had finally attracted someone’s attention, the cat began meowing in earnest.

  “I see you,” Daniel assured in an attempt to soothe it. His heart clenched at the sight of its terrified face. The poor thing could have been there for hours! It was probably on the verge of freezing to death. He could track down a volunteer firefighter, but couldn’t imagine anyone would be very happy to be woken up at this late hour.

  Daniel gave the tree another once-over. The bottom of the trunk was branchless, but had a few knots that could be used as footholds. Daniel didn’t have exceptional upper body strength, but assumed he could pull himself up to where the cat was sitting. After taking a deep breath of determination, he gave a running start, allowing his momentum to help him up the tree. After a few minutes of struggling, he’d finally reached the startled animal.

  “There there, darling,” he cooed, taking the cat into his arms. “I’ve got you now.” Even in the moonlight, he was finally close enough to read the tag on its collar. The cats name was Miss Fluffy and she belonged to Mr. Morganson. Daniel gave a sigh of exasperation. That old coot was in everyone else’s business, but he couldn’t be bothered to watch over his own pet!

  Daniel shifted his body as he attempted to descend the tree without the use of his arms. He realized that it seemed much higher from this angle and that the footholds would be significantly harder to use on the way down, especially while holding a squirming cat. With awful clarity, he realized that, even without the cat, he couldn’t risk getting down without the threat of a sprained or broken ankle.

  “Oh, bother,” he huffed under his breath. It was nearly midnight and highly unlikely that anyone would be frequenting the park for hours. It was much more likely that a townsperson would find his frozen body in a tree the next morning instead. How embarrassing.