Jacob began to croon to the animals, but they wouldn’t come closer to him. He whirled in frustration, his fists tight by his sides, and stomped his foot. At the sound, the alpacas turned and fled to the farthest corner of the barn. The boy’s face fell from annoyance to dismay.
“Why don’t they like me?” he asked.
Esther gave him a gentle smile. “They don’t know you yet.”
“I come out here every day. I help Nathaniel feed them. I make sure they have plenty of water. Why can’t they see I won’t hurt them?”
“Alpacas take a long time to trust someone. You have to be patient, Jacob.”
“I have been.”
“They still don’t trust me completely,” said Nathaniel, “and I was taking care of them for more than a month before you came here.”
Crestfallen, Jacob nodded. “I wish they liked me.”
“If you give them time, they may,” Esther said.
“I want her to like me.” He pointed to a light brown female. “I want her to like me before she has her boppli.”
“How do you know she’s pregnant?”
“She told me.” He grinned. “Not with words. I’m not out of my mind, no matter what other kids say. She told me by the way she looks. Like our dog did when she was going to have puppies.”
“How is that?” Nathaniel asked.
“Her belly moves, and I know it’s the boppli waiting to be born.”
Esther patted Jacob’s shoulder. “You’re right, but you need to know one thing. Newborn alpacas are called crias.”
“Why?”
“From what I’ve read, it’s because the little ones make a sound like a human boppli. The word is based on a Spanish one, which explorers used when they first visited the mountains in South America where alpacas come from.”
He nodded and said the word slowly as if testing out how it felt. “Cria. I like that. She’s not the only one going to have a cria, is she?”
“I’d say there are at least five pregnant females.”
“Are you sure?” Nathaniel looked from the boy to her. How would he ever make the farm a success if he’d failed to see something obvious to an eight-year-old boy?
“Not completely.” Esther put her hand on the wall. “You should have Doc Anstine stop by and look at them. He provided gut care for my alpacas, so he’s familiar with their health needs.”
Jacob grinned at Nathaniel. “Can I have one to raise by myself?”
“You need to see if the mamm alpacas are willing to let us near their crias.”
“But if they will...?”
Nathaniel wanted to say ja, but he couldn’t think of the alpacas and their offspring as pets. They might be the single way to save his grandparents’ farm. On the other hand, he didn’t want to crush Jacob’s hopes.
Slender fingers settled on his sleeve, and he saw Esther shake her head slightly. How could what he was thinking be transparent to her, when he had no idea what secrets she was keeping from him?
You’re keeping a big secret from her, too. His conscience refused to be silent, and he knew the futility of trying to ignore it. Now it was warning him of the dangers of ferreting out secrets better left alone.
“Let’s talk about this later,” Esther said, breaking into his thoughts. “Right now, will you watch the alpacas for Nathaniel?”
Jacob nodded, a brilliant smile on his face. “Ja. Maybe if they see me here, they’ll know they’re okay.”
“You’re right. What they need right now is what’s familiar to them.” She patted the boy’s arm. “Stay with them ten or fifteen minutes, then come to the house. By the time you return later to make sure they’re settled for the night, they should be fine. They may not know you kept them safe today, Jacob, but I know Nathaniel is grateful for your quick thinking.”
“I am,” Nathaniel said as the boy positively glowed. “The alpacas are important to me.”
“Because they belonged to your grossmammi?” The boy hesitated, then reached into a pocket in his trousers. He pulled out a round disk. A yo-yo, Nathaniel realized. “This belonged to my grossmammi, and she gave it to my daed when he was a little boy. That’s what my mamm told me.” He stroked the wood that once had been painted a bright red. Only a few hints of paint remained. “My onkel owns a lot of stuff. He gave me some stuff of my own like my baseball and books. This is all I have that once belonged to my grossmammi and my daed.”
The sight of the boy holding his single connection to the parents who had been taken from him by a drunk driver twisted Nathaniel’s heart. Beside him, he heard Esther make a soft sound that might have been a smothered sob.
Knowing he must say something to the boy who had allowed them to see a portion of his pain, Nathaniel asked, “Do you always carry it in your pocket?”
“Not always.” He shot a guilty glance at Esther. “I don’t like others touching it, and I didn’t know how much cleaning would be done in my room.”
“Why don’t you run and put it in your dresser drawer, so it doesn’t get lost?”
“But the alpacas—”
“I’ll stay here until you get back.” He forced a grin. “I’ll try not to upset them too much.”
Jacob shoved the yo-yo into his pocket and bolted out of the barn.
By the pen, Esther wiped away tears she’d tried to hide from the boy. She gave Nathaniel a watery smile. “He’ll be right back. I don’t think he trusts you with his alpacas.”
“I think you’re right.”
“He trusts you.” She pushed away from the railing. Walking toward him, she said, “He showed you his most precious possession.”
“And you, too.”
She shook her head, and several light brown strands of her hair tumbled from beneath her kerchief. “No. If he trusted me, he wouldn’t have put the toy in his pocket to make sure it was safe. Besides, I’m his teacher. You’re his friend. He’s learned he can depend on you.”
“He’ll come to see you’re someone he can rely on, too.” He stared at the long, damp curls along her neck. They appeared as silken as the alpacas’ wool, and his fingers tingled at the thought of winding those vagrant tresses around them.
Pulling his gaze from them, he found his eyes lock with her pretty blue ones. They glistened with residual tears for the boy, but he saw other emotions, as well. Would she ever look at him with the longing he felt whenever she was close, a longing to hold her? Suddenly he found himself wondering if her eyes would close, brushing her long lashes on her soft cheeks, as he bent to kiss her.
No! He couldn’t take advantage of her. She was unsteady in the wake of Jacob’s confession...as he was.
He clasped his hands behind him before he pulled her close as he’d started to do in the attic before Jacob intruded. “One thing I can rely on is you. You’re a gut friend, Esther Stoltzfus.”
She didn’t look at him as she said, “Danki. So are you.” She stuffed her hair under her kerchief and headed toward the barn’s main door. She didn’t add anything else before she opened the door and was gone, leaving him more confused than ever.
* * *
When Nathaniel walked into Amos Stoltzfus’s store, it was busy. Amos’s customers hurried to get their errands and chores done before day’s end. Tomorrow would be a day of worship, and no work, other than the necessary tasks of caring for farm animals, could be done.
In the midst of all the activity, Amos moved with a purposeful calm. He lifted a box down from a high shelf for an elderly man, who’d been standing on tiptoe to try to reach it on his own, though a pair of box grippers hung from a brad at the end of the aisle. He answered a kind’s question as if it were the most important thing he’d do all day.
Nathaniel smiled. There was no doubt Amos was a Stoltzfus. Not only did he have the brothers’ height, something they didn’t share with petite Esther, but he had the same
sense of humor. He left everyone he spoke with either smiling or laughing. The Stoltzfus brothers seemed to have an ability to make others feel better...as Esther did, too. Nathaniel doubted any of them realized what a special gift they’d been given. It was simply a part of them.
“Nate—Nathaniel!” Amos grinned. “I’ll get it right one of these days.”
“As I told your mamm, it doesn’t matter which name you use.”
“What can I help you with?” He wiped his hands on his apron that was stained with a multitude of colors.
“I’m looking for roller skates.” He’d planned to buy a pair last week, but the days had hurried past, each one busier than the preceding one. Between caring for his animals, trying to keep the house in some sort of order and taking Jacob to school, he hadn’t had a second to call his own. Only because Neva, Esther’s assistant teacher, had come over to the house today to help Jacob with the schoolwork he’d missed had Nathaniel been able to come to the Stoltzfus Family Shops alone. “Do you sell them?”
He shook his head. “You might try the bicycle shop on Route 30. It’s not far from the post office. Someone told me they had a small selection. Otherwise, the closest place I know of is an Englisch shop near the Rockvale Outlets in Lancaster, and that’ll take you about a half hour drive with heavy traffic each way. The Englischers are already swarming on the outlets for Christmas shopping.”
“It’s only October.”
“I know.” Amos shrugged and then chuckled. “Apparently they want bragging rights to being the first one done. Traffic is really hectic this time of year.”
“Danki for the warning. I think I’ll check the bicycle shop.” He started to turn to leave, so Amos could assist his other customers. When Amos spoke his name, Nathaniel paused.
“Esther tells me the boy has settled in well at your farm. If you ever need some time to yourself, he’s welcome to stay at our house.”
“I know, but right now some stability is the best thing for him.”
“If you change your mind—”
“Danki.” He let a smile spread across his face. “But think about it, Amos. Would you have wanted to stay at your teacher’s house?”
With a roar of laughter, Amos clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s putting it in perspective.” He was kept chuckling as he turned to help a woman Nathaniel didn’t recognize find a particular spice she needed.
Nathaniel walked out, hoping he had enough time to get to the other shop and back to the farm before Neva had to leave. His life was hectic now, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He still needed to talk to Esther about shearing the alpacas so he could have cash to keep the farm going until next fall’s harvest. If the alpacas’ wool wasn’t the solution, he wasn’t sure where he’d turn next. He knew he couldn’t return defeated to Indiana. Not only would his parents again smother him in an attempt to protect him, but he’d have to say goodbye to Esther.
He didn’t want to face either.
Chapter Nine
The Sunday service was almost over. Esther saw two mamms with new bopplin slip back into the room. Little ones seldom could remain quiet for the full three hours of the service. The mamms had to inch through to sit among the other women because the church benches were closer together than usual. It was always a tight squeeze at the Huyard house.
Marlin Wagler, the district’s deacon, stood to make announcements. First, as he did each church Sunday, he announced which family would be hosting the district’s next service. Then he paused and glanced around the room.
Esther held her breath as the room grew so silent breathing would have seemed loud. This time of year there was an air of suspense during announcements. Secret engagements were made public along with letting the Leit know the couple’s wedding date and who would be invited. She glanced around the room, trying to see who, besides her brother Ezra, wasn’t there. When Ezra had stuttered over an excuse not to drive them to the Huyards’ this morning, she’d guessed his and Leah’s wedding plans were going to be published today. That was confirmed when Esther noticed Leah was missing, as well. It was traditional that an engaged couple didn’t attend the service when their wedding was announced.
Anyone else?
Her search of the room came to an abrupt halt when her gaze was caught by Nathaniel’s. Dressed in his Sunday mutze, he looked more handsome than usual. The black frock coat made his hair appear darker, something she hadn’t guessed was possible. She noticed how the coat strained across his shoulders and guessed the hard work he was doing on the farm was adding to his already sturdy muscles.
She looked hastily away, not wanting anyone to notice how she was staring at him. But she couldn’t keep from peeking out from beneath her lashes to watch him. He was scanning the rows where the women sat. Was he trying to figure out who was missing, too?
Or was he considering which single woman he might choose as a bride? That thought sliced through her like a well-honed knife, but she couldn’t ignore the truth. He was in Paradise Springs to rebuild the family’s farm. Why would he do that unless he planned to marry in the hopes of having a son to take over the farm when he was ready to retire? He needed someone who loved adventures and challenges, because she knew every day with him would be one.
That woman wasn’t Esther Stoltzfus. When she told him she no longer roller-skated, Nathaniel had seemed to get the idea her days of seeking out adventures were in the past. Warmth crawled up her face when she recalled how the conversation between them in the attic ended. She shouldn’t have touched him. That was too bold for the woman she wanted to be, but was it wrong to reach out when a friend was troubled? It was when thoughts of friendship had vanished as his fingers danced along her skin, setting it to sparkling like stars in a moonless sky. Then she’d watched his mouth coming closer to hers for a kiss.
In the open area between the benches, the deacon cleared his throat. The sound cut through Esther’s reverie and brought her back to reality. A reality where she and Nathaniel were friends.
“Ezra Stoltzfus and Leah Beiler have come to me with their intention to marry,” Marlin boomed over a boppli’s cries. “They’ve asked to be in our prayers, so please keep them in yours today and from this day forward.”
Esther watched as Mamm stood to announce the date of the wedding. Her eyes were bright with tears, but Esther couldn’t be sure if they were happy ones or if Mamm was thinking that it should have been Daed sharing the information today.
“Everyone is invited,” Mamm said with a broad smile as she looked around the room, “no matter their age. Please pray the weather will be fine so we don’t have to hold the wedding dinner in the barn.”
That brought laughter from the adults and eager grins from the kinder. Many weddings restricted the age of the guests because there wasn’t enough room for youngsters to be served along with the adults. Then some people couldn’t attend because they had to stay home with the kinder.
Two other weddings were published, both for two days after Ezra and Leah’s. There weren’t enough Tuesdays and Thursdays, the days when the ceremonies were held, during the wedding season, so there were always conflicts. Esther was delighted there wouldn’t be another wedding in their district on the day of her brother’s wedding.
With a final prayer, the service came to a close. She went to the kitchen with half a dozen women to help serve the cold meats and sandwiches that had been prepared for their midday meal. The men and older boys rearranged the church benches as tables and seats for lunch. They would eat first, and then the women, girls and younger kinder would have their turn. The girls were watching the smaller kids run around while they got rid of some of the energy that had been bottled up during the long service.
Esther grinned as her mamm accepted gut wishes on the upcoming wedding. Volunteers came forward to promise to help with cooking and serving as well as cleaning up. Everyone enjoyed playing a part in a wedding, no matter
how big or small the task might be.
By the time she’d eaten and helped wash the dishes, Esther suspected she’d heard about every possible amusing story of past weddings. She wiped her hands on a damp towel and went outside for some fresh air.
The afternoon was surprisingly balmy after the chill of the previous week. Not needing her shawl, she draped it over her arm as she walked toward a picnic table beneath a pair of large maples. In the summer, their broad branches offered shade for half the yard.
She sat, leaning against the table as she stretched out her legs. Hearing childish shouts, she smiled when she saw a trio of boys running toward the barn. Two were the younger Huyard boys, and the third was Jacob. He was joining in their game as if he always played with other kinder. They were laughing and calling to each other as they disappeared around the far side of the barn.
She closed her eyes, sending up a grateful prayer. Today, at least for now, Jacob was being a kind. It was a gift from God who was bringing him healing.
Even that simple prayer was difficult to complete, though it came directly from her heart, because her mind was filled with the work needing to be done before the wedding day. Perhaps Neva could fill in for her afternoons, so Esther could help Mamm and Leah and Leah’s mamm get everything prepared. She’d been much younger when her oldest siblings married, and when her brother Joshua had wed for the second time earlier in the year it had been a simpler celebration.
Would it be her turn one day? She almost laughed at the question. When she considered the single men in the district, she couldn’t imagine one she’d want to marry and spend the rest of her life with. Most of them thought of her as “one of the boys,” as they had when they were kinder. They laughed with her and talked about the mischief they’d shared, but when it came time to select a girl to walk out with, they looked at the girls who’d spent their childhoods learning a wife’s skills instead of climbing trees and racing across fields.
Amish Beginnings Page 28
