The Blacksmith Queen - G.A. Aiken Page 0,18

all right?” her father asked.

“Yes. Gemma and Mum are doing just fine.”

“Keeley.”

“I mean, why should Mum give me a little more respect as I actually have stayed to help care for the family.”

“Keeley.”

“Especially when Gemma has just run off and become the whore to a god—”

“Keeley!”

Keeley blinked. “Yes?”

“Big Bart,” her father said.

Keeley stomped down the line of stalls until she reached an extra-large one. She opened it, went inside, and a few minutes later, came back out with a limping horse. A horse that met the name “Big Bart” head-on.

She had Big Bart stand in front of his stall and she took some time to stroke his hair and muzzle. The horse clearly liked her, constantly nuzzling her and trying to get closer. Eventually she held his reins in one hand and began to drag the fingers of her other hand down the animal’s spine.

Caid watched while Laila and the others stood beside him.

“What’s she doing?” Laila asked.

“I have no idea.”

The horse was clearly lame and probably in pain. Humans usually put down a horse as soon as it lost its usefulness, so Caid was surprised to see Keeley tending to the animal as if she had no intention of doing any such thing. If his pain was tolerable, that seemed fair enough. And he could recommend something that would ease the horse’s suffering without killing him.

“Did you find it?” her father called out.

“Would you let me do what I do, Father?”

“Oooh,” Angus said to Caid. “She’s getting cranky.”

“I can hear you,” Keeley snapped.

Staring at the floor, Keeley continued to move her fingers down the horse’s spine until she finally stopped, her head tilting to the side.

Where her fingers rested on the horse’s back, Keeley squeezed and the horse began to move all four of his legs; Keeley quickly stepped back, laughing.

She took off the bridle. “Move, would you?” she asked Caid and the others, and they all stepped back.

The horse started running, charging down the center of the stables and out the open double doors.

“What did you do?” Laila asked.

“His spine was just off.”

“But . . . what?”

Keeley waved Laila’s questions away. “You work with horses as much as I do, you learn to care for them outside of just putting on new shoes.”

“Don’t listen to her. My Keeley helps all our neighbors’ horses. She has a way with them.”

“So you’re an animal healer?”

“Don’t ask me to sew up wounds. But if bones and muscles are giving them trouble . . . I can try to fix them.”

“Not just animals, though. She fixes me back all the time,” Angus said proudly. “And her mum’s.”

“If you followed my directions,” Keeley chastised, “you wouldn’t need me to fix your back all the time. It’s the way you pick things up. And you’ve got to stop playing with the pigs.”

“The pigs like me. They’re me friends.”

“And that’s why we haven’t had a side of pork in many winters,” Keeley muttered.

“You can have pig for dinner . . . just not our pigs.”

* * *

Keeley opened the back door, but before she could step into the kitchen, her mother and Gemma immediately stopped talking.

She clenched her jaw and, without meaning to, let out a little growl.

Her father patted her shoulder. “Back in the cage, little one,” he whispered to her. “Put that anger back in the cage.”

Loving her father too much to want to hurt him with any bickering, Keeley took in a deep breath, let it out, and stepped into the kitchen.

“Food smells good, Mum.”

“Thank you.” Her mother motioned to the pot of bubbling stew sitting over an open fire. “Get that, would ya, luv. I’ll get the bread.”

Once Keeley had put the large pot onto a nearby wood table so her mother could spoon the food into bowls, she noticed that Gemma was standing by her.

“Need help?” she asked with a sweet smile.

“Sure.” She motioned to her sister’s white cape. “You may want to take that off.”

“I’m fine.”

“But you don’t want to get a mess on it.”

“It’s fine,” she replied, the smile never wavering.

Keeley faced her sister.

“Why don’t you want to take that bloody thing off?” she snapped.

“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business!”

* * *

Angus cringed before the first shove even happened. He knew it was coming because nothing had changed. His two eldest daughters always bickered. They grew up, it seemed, eternally trapped in mutual headlocks.

But despite their constant arguing and complaining, they still loved each other. That’s why Keeley had been so hurt when Gemma, according to

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