"The Spring Forge"

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She paid for the cloth. She'll pay for the wheel in shirts. Phoebe Lorne is a widowed seamstress with fourteen cents, four bolts of fresh cloth in a broken wagon, and no intention of owing anyone a favor. When the wheel gives way in the middle of Pennyroyal Crossing one April afternoon in 1851, the two smiths who lift the loaded wagon out of the mud name a fair price. She names a fairer trade. Abel Dunleavy is six foot five, soot to the elbows, and has not been inside a shop in ten years. Eamon Fisk has talked his way into every supper table in the village and never once been asked to stay. They come to her fitting in their cleanest shirts and duck the lintel. She climbs a stool to take their measure. The shirts pay for the wheel. What happens after the lamps are lit is something else, and she writes the terms down herself. A cozy, explicit historical short story. One partner at a time, no male/male contact, no jealousy. All characters 18+.