“Do you have a record of your payment?” the blacksmith said, his brow furrowing as he must have realized that all was not what it should be.
“Ah, no, unfortunately, I forgot it,” Tommy said, and the blacksmith sighed as he closed his book.
“Listen, son, I’ve been here at this shop for a good many years and I always loved the romance that came with the runaway weddings. But I can’t do that anymore. You have to have resided in the parish for twenty-one days before I can marry you.”
Tommy saw Minnie’s face drop, but he kept a grasp on the hope that remained.
“I understand,” he said. “Laws are laws. Our situation israther… unfortunate. If you had time to marry us, do you have time for a story?”
“If you don’t mind if I do a bit of work while you tell it.”
“Of course.”
The blacksmith turned back to his forge, and Tommy gave Minnie a wink, hoping to lift her spirits, before he joined the blacksmith, taking the next piece of metal and beginning to help.
“What’s your name?”
“Murdoch.”
“Murdoch. I’ll tell this as quickly as I can.”
And he did, not leaving out a detail. By the time he had finished, Murdoch had put down his tools and was staring at him incredulously.
“And you love each other?”
“We do,” Tommy answered, the one fib he had told. Murdoch scratched his beard.
“I might be able to help you out,” he said, walking over to the side of the room and picking up two pieces of paper. He wrote out a long message on one, folded it, and then wrote a name and address on it and passed it to Tommy.
“My sister, Anne, lets the guesthouse behind her house. Go and see her and give her the other note. If she agrees, then have her accompany you back here in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, Murdoch,” Tommy said, rushing to the door with Minnie at his side.
Murdoch nodded, and Tommy took Minnie’s hand as he followed Murdoch’s directions, soon finding themselves at a house painted a bright yellow, covered in flowers in a beautiful rainbow of color. Minnie was so tired she took a seat on the wooden swing outside the front door while Tommy knocked on it.
Soon enough, a woman appeared, one who looked a great deal like the blacksmith, although without the beard, and shegave them a warm welcome as she opened the door wider and led them into the house, asking them to sit in chairs before the fire in a small parlor.
“Are you here about the room?” she asked.
“In a sense,” Tommy said. “Murdoch sent us. He asked me to give you this.”
He passed her the paper, and she took it without surprise, reading over it quickly. When she finished, she studied them as though assessing whether they were worthy before finally nodding.
“Very well,” she said. “Let me draw up the papers then find my husband and we’ll be quick about it.”
When she disappeared, Minnie moved closer to Tommy’s side.
“What does this mean?” she whispered.
“I think it means she’s willing to lie about how long we have stayed here,” he whispered back in wonderment.
When she returned, a gruff, silent man who only grunted his welcome beside her, Minnie and Tommy were standing, ready and waiting before they all made their way back to the blacksmith shop, Minnie’s hand squeezed tightly in Tommy’s.
“There you are again,” Murdoch greeted them once they returned. “Although with two witnesses. Are we ready to do this?”
Tommy caught Minnie’s gaze, reading with gratitude the trust within it as she nodded at him.
“Very good,” Murdoch said. “It will only take a minute.”
