A Midsummer Night's Fling

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Aithne

Slowly I turned around and came face to face with William—his nearness sent a shiver coursing through my body. Regardless of my state of confusion, there was no denying the chemistry and attraction between us.

I glanced around as I attempted to compose myself. In all honesty, I had expected to find Hadrian, but it appeared my heart and mind had conspired against me. Not that I was complaining. Just being in William's presence was enough to stir emotion and addle my thinking. Two men—two responses, I was definitely in trouble.

"Were you looking for my father?" His question crossed the distance, and even his rich baritone was alluring. It struck me that I never realized how truly seductive his voice was until this moment, and part of me would've been content to spend the rest of the day just listening to him speak.

I shook my head. Not able to answer, my eyes finally rested back on him.

"You came looking for me?"

I ignored his question and moved farther into the establishment. It had been a while since I'd been here—the last being when William's father had given him the striker's apprenticeship. I would sit and watch for hours as he helped swing the large hammer, pounding down on the fired metal as his father held it over an anvil. I had been intrigued how patiently he found the best places to strike the hot iron. I'd also tried to resist staring at the way his muscles rippled—flexing with each movement. It was one of the first instances when I realized my friend was turning from a boy into a man.

"What are you working on today?" I inched toward the pit of coals where William had been standing, careful not to get too close lest the heat or flame catch my garments on fire. A fine sheen of sweat glistened over my skin, and I wondered how he was able to stand such temperatures each day. It made me appreciate the coolness of the river and my daily visits there.

"Just a few odds and ends," He looked as though he wanted to say more, his head slightly tilted sideways as he studied me. I tried not to squirm under his scrutiny, relieved when he finally turned away. "Would you like to watch as I make a horse shoe?" His eyes lit up, the reflection of the small flames amongst the coal danced over his soot-smudged skin.

"Isn't that the farrier's job?" I questioned.

"It is, but John's mother has fallen ill, and he's had to go stay with her through her recovery. Instead of closing up his store and losing business, my father stepped in and offered my services. Most of the work has already been done—I'm just assisting with the remainder." Shrugging, William bent over a pile of steel bars and choosing one, brought it back to his work station. "I love working with my hands—working with metal—so I was happy to oblige. Plus I have the skills." He pointed to a small bench seat.

I quietly sat as he picked up a blackened pair of tongs and stuck the bar into the fiery coals. Pulling it out to check whether the material was ready, he grinned at me then slid it back in.

"I need to wait until it's a yellowy-orange color before I start striking it. That's the best temperature, and it'll help make the final product stronger." Judging the appearance again, he removed it from the coals and placed part of it on the anvil. Even though I'd been expecting the hit, I jumped at the force behind the hammer as William quickly began pounding. "I can't dally when the steel is ready. Each moment out of the fire, it's cooling." He yelled his actions over the noise.

The process involved a lot of repetition—heating and striking, bending and filing—but it wasn't long before my attention strayed. It was impossible to keep focused on the creation when my eyes kept straying to the creator.