I looked at Gemma sidelong. “I know you hate to say anything negative, but I wouldn’t call Kayla acting smug abnormal.”
“But being secretive is unusual for her.”
Gemma had a point. Bragging was standard for Kayla. If she felt smug about something, she’d share the cause with the world. I frowned, realizing her behavior matched Gemma’s description the day before when we went cherry picking, too. I gasped. “She never told me what Jeff wanted to talk to her about.”
Gemma’s lips parted. “Jeff?”
How had I missed that? I was right there when Jeff went up to see her. I had expected to hear what he had said, and then promptly forgot. “He spoke to her right before we left to pick cherries, and she didn’t mention him once all afternoon.”
Gemma’s eyes went wide. “She didn’t yesterday, either. Oh my. What do you think Jeff might have said?”
“All I know is he didn’t propose. But Sam mentioned he was going to work at his uncle’s shop in Haiwella soon.”
“Yes, I think he left yesterday afternoon.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, I asked the question we were both thinking. “What could he possibly have said that she wouldn’t share?”
“There’s only one type of thing I can think of that would keep Kayla silent. It must be something so amazing that the embarrassment if it didn’t come to pass would outweigh all the pleasure she’d have gotten from bragging.”
“More than just Jeff possibly marrying her and giving her a life in the city?”
Gemma nodded. “Kayla knows that if she says she won’t marry him unless he moves to the city, Jeff will do it. There must be something else.”
“Maybe Jeff said something to Sam that can give us a clue.”
“I’ll ask Cole, too.” Gemma moved to the next shelf. “Wait, you said you had something to talk about privately. If it wasn’t about Kayla, then what was it?”
I remembered my goal from when I had walked into the shop, but the urgency was no longer there. Alan’s situation didn’t really—I twisted the rose ring around on my finger and clenched my fist, pressing the ring into my flesh. It mattered.
My determination returned. I needed an emotional argument. A twinge of guilt struck. The woman at my side didn’t deserve the words I would hurl at her in the coming minutes. She was a victim of the charm, too. But to make her see past the magic, I couldn’t afford to tread lightly. Besides, if she knew why I was doing this, she’d forgive me. Gemma would understand that all I wanted was to help Alan.
There was no point in drawing out the conversation. “Why does everyone—including you—look down on Alan?”
Gemma fumbled the canister of tea in her hand, sending it clinking into another. “It’s not like that. Alan is nice, I suppose. He’s reserved and quiet. But his father was an incredible blacksmith. It is just so disappointing that Alan didn’t inherit the talent.”
Fighting the urge to get into a pointless argument regarding Alan’s lack of talent, I focused on riling Gemma’s emotions. “Is it so shameful not to be a brilliant blacksmith?”
“Of course not! Everyone has their own talents. Our differences make the village stronger.”
“Ah. It is only shameful when a son can’t eclipse his father. Following other paths isn’t honorable.”
“No!”
I had riled Gemma. Now to see if her emotions could force her to break through the hold the charm had on her thoughts.
Gemma took a deep breath. “It is unfair for a child to always live in the shadow of their parents. Not every man is meant to follow in his father’s footsteps. My Cole doesn’t plan to take over his father’s farm, and there is nothing shameful about that.”
I bit back my frustration. We were getting off topic. “But Alan has to be a blacksmith?”
“Alan is a disgrace to his family’s name! He should strive to live up to his father’s example. He won’t reach it, but that’s no excuse not to try.”
I stared at Gemma in shock. I had never heard her say anything so disparaging about another person. Nor had I ever heard such disgust in her voice. The charm held her even tighter than it had Sam during my arguments with him. Either Gemma was more susceptible to the magic, or I had everything backward.
An emotional argument ran head-long into the blocks the charm had placed on the villagers’ perceptions. Alan wasn’t the victim of a mind-bender, but a heart-changer. I should have realized it earlier. Everyone always expressed the same opinion about him: disappointment.
It wasn’t their thoughts being twisted around, but their emotions.
If emotional arguments were the weakness of my charm, then they were the strength of this one. My emotional appeal to Gemma, therefore, had butted up against the full power of the charm. It explained her unnaturally vehement response.
