His Amish Sweetheart (7 page)

“I'm glad to answer what I can, and I'm glad you're here to hear as well, so I don't need to explain them again to you.”

He pressed his hand over his heart and struck the pose of a wounded man. “Oh, no! I didn't realize I was supposed to be listening, too.”

“You should know anytime you're around a teacher there may be a test at the end.”

He laughed again, harder this time, as they walked to the door where Jacob was waiting impatiently. When the boy motioned for them to follow him inside, Nathaniel's laughter vanished along with Esther's smile.

The interior of the house was almost impassable. Boxes and bags were piled haphazardly from floor to ceiling. Esther stared at broken pieces of scooters, parts from
Englisch
cars and farming equipment mixed in with clothing and books and things she couldn't identify. If there was any furniture beneath the heaps it was impossible to see.

She guessed they were in the kitchen, but there were no signs of appliances or a sink. Odors that suggested food was rotting somewhere in the depths of the piles turned her stomach. She pushed the door open again, knowing she couldn't reach a window, even if she knew where one was, to air out the house.

“My room is this way.” Jacob gestured again for them to follow him as he threaded a path through the piles with the ease of much practice.

Esther looked around in disbelief. Softly, so her words wouldn't reach Jacob, she said, “I had no idea Titus Fisher was living this way.”

“I don't think anyone did other than his nephew.” Nathaniel's mouth was a straight line as he walked after the boy.

She hesitated, not wanting to be buried if a mountain of debris cascaded onto her. How could this house have become filled with garbage and useless items? Surely someone came to call on the old man once in a while. She needed to alert the bishop, because other elderly people who were alone might also be living in such deplorable conditions.

Titus couldn't come home to this. Isaiah had said the stroke was a bad one, and if the elderly man survived he would be in a wheelchair. The path from the kitchen was too narrow for one.

Taking a deep breath, Esther plunged into the house. Her shawl brushed the sides of the stacks as she inched forward. How was Nathaniel managing? His shoulders were wider than her own. When she saw him ahead, sidling like a crab, she realized it was the only way he could move through the narrow space.

“Having fun?” he asked as he waited for her to catch up with him.

“Fun? Why would you say that?”

He grinned. “It's like being an explorer in another world. Who knows what lurks in these piles?”

“Mice and squirrels, most likely. Maybe a rat or two. Cockroaches. Do I need to go on?”

“Where's your sense of adventure?”

“Gone.”

“I noticed.” His face was abruptly serious. Tilting his head and eyeing her as if trying to look within her heart, he said, “You used to see an adventure in everything around us. What happened?”

She didn't want to have this discussion with him, especially not now when Jacob should be their focus. She tried to push aside some of the stacked items so she could move past him. It was as useless as if she were shoving on a concrete wall.

“Esther, tell me why you've changed.” His voice had dropped to a husky whisper that seemed to reach deep inside her and uncurl slowly as it peeled away her pretense.

No! She wouldn't reveal the humiliating truth of how she'd been so eager for adventure that she'd gotten involved with Alvin Lee. How could she explain she was supposed to be a respectable daughter and teacher, but she'd ridden in his buggy while he was racing it? What would Nathaniel think of her if he learned how she'd tossed aside common sense in the hope Alvin Lee would develop feelings for her?

Because he reminded me of Nathaniel, who, I believed, was gone forever from my life.

Astonishment froze her. Could that be true? No, she had to be
ferhoodled
. If she wasn't mixed-up, it had to be because she was distressed by the state of Titus's house and knowing Jacob had been living here. That was why she wasn't thinking straight. It had to be!

Nathaniel was regarding her with curiosity because she hadn't answered his question. She raised her chin slightly so she could meet his steady gaze.

“What happened? I grew up,” she said before turning and shoving harder on the junk. Items fell on others, and it sounded as if several pieces of glass or china shattered. The path widened enough so she could squeeze past him without touching him. She kept going and didn't look back.

Chapter Six

E
sther followed Jacob up the stairs, which were stacked with boxes. She heard Nathaniel's footsteps behind her but didn't turn. She shouldn't have spoken to him like that. It had been rude, and her reply was sure to create more questions. She didn't need those.

The upper hallway was as clogged with rubbish as the first floor. Each room they passed looked exactly like the rest of the house until Jacob opened a door and led them into a neat room.

How often
Mamm
had chided her and her siblings throughout their childhoods to keep their rooms orderly!
Mamm
would have been delighted to see how well Jacob kept his room.

Was it something he'd learned from his own
mamm
, or did he keep the clutter out of his room to have a refuge from his
onkel
's overpowering collection? She blinked back tears. Either way, it was another sign of a
kind
who'd lost too much and was trying not to let his true feelings show.

Speaking around the clog in her throat, she said, “The first things we're going to need are some bags or a
gut
-sized box.”

“I think I know where I can find a box.” Nathaniel grinned.

Jacob stepped in front of him to keep him from leaving the room. The boy's eyes were wide with horror. “No! You can't use one of
Onkel
Titus's boxes. Nobody touches anything in
Onkel
Titus's house but
Onkel
Titus.”

“Not even you?” asked Esther gently.

The boy shook his head, his expression grim. “I did once, and I got the switch out behind the well house. I learned when
Onkel
Titus says something he means it.”

Nathaniel glanced at her over the boy's head, and she saw his closely reined-in anger. A
kind
must learn to heed his elders, but that could be done gently. The idea of Titus striking Jacob for simply moving one of dozens of cardboard boxes set her teeth on edge, as well.

“Wait here.” Jacob rushed from the room.

“No
kind
should live as he has here,” Nathaniel said.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “We need to contact Reuben.”

“The bishop—” He halted himself as Jacob sprinted into the room.

The boy tossed some cloth grocery bags on the bed. “We can use these.
Onkel
Titus says they're worthless. He'll be glad to get them out of his house.”

“Gut.”
Esther kept her voice light. “Are your clothes in this dresser?”

“Ja.”

“Pick out things other than clothes you want to bring and put them on the bed. Nathaniel and you can take them to the buggy.” She counted. There were ten bags. “These should be enough to hold your things.”

The boy faltered. “How long is
Onkel
Titus going to be in the hospital?”

Esther knew she must not hesitate. She didn't want to cause the boy more worry. “He has to stay there until the
doktors
tell him he can come home. I know you want him home right away, but it's better that the
doktors
are thorough so they know everything about your
onkel
's health.”

Jacob pondered that for several minutes, then nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Don't forget your school supplies,” she added.

“School?” He looked at Nathaniel. “I thought I didn't have to go to school while I was at your house.”

“All
kinder
must go to school.” Nathaniel grinned. “Nice try, though.”

“When do I have to go back?”

“Monday will be early enough,” Esther answered.

Jacob frowned, then began to gather his belongings. For the next ten minutes they worked in silent unison. Jacob set a few books, a baseball and his church Sunday black hat on the bed. Nathaniel put them into bags, making sure nothing was crushed. Esther packed Jacob's work boots and his best pair of shoes into another bag before turning to the dresser.

Like everything else in the room, the drawers were neat. Too neat for an eight-year-old boy.

When she mentioned that to Nathaniel while Jacob was carrying the first bags of clothing downstairs, he said, “Maybe it's his defense against the mess in the rest of the house. I'm glad we're getting him out of here.” He picked up the last two cloth bags.

“Has he said anything about going to visit his
onkel
?”

“No.”

“You'll let me know if he says something about going to the hospital, won't you?”

“Ja.”
He gave her a faint smile. “I'm sure he'll ask once he's less fascinated with the alpacas.” Before she could add anything else, he asked, “Don't you think it's odd Titus wants to get rid of perfectly
gut
bags when he's stockpiling ripped and torn plastic ones?”

“Everything about him seems to be odder than anyone knows.” She walked toward the door. “If I had to guess, I'd say Titus doesn't like cloth bags because you can't see through them. The plastic ones let him keep an eye on his possessions.”

“How can he—or anyone else—see into the bags at the bottom of a pile?”

“You're being logical, Nathaniel. I don't think logic visits this house very often.”

He led the way down the cramped stairs. When a board creaked threateningly beneath her foot, he turned and grasped her by the waist. He swung her down onto the step beside him. Her skirt brushed against the junk on the stairs. An avalanche tumbled loudly down the stairs and ricocheted off stacks on the ground floor. Things cascaded in every direction.

The noise couldn't conceal the sharp snap of the tread where she'd been standing. It broke and fell into the open space under the stairs.

Nathaniel's arm curved around her, pulling her away from the gap. Her breath burst out of her, and she had trouble drawing another one while she stood so near to him. When she did, it was flavored with the enticing scents of soap and sunshine from his shirt. With her head on his chest, she could hear the rapid beat of his heart. She put her hand on his arm to make sure her wobbly knees didn't collapse beneath her like the boxes and bags. His pulse jumped at her touch, and his arm around her waist tightened, keeping her close, exactly where her heart wanted her to be.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his breath swirling along her neck in a gentle caress.

More than okay.
She bit back the words before they could seep past her lips. At the same time, she eased away from him. Glancing at the hole in the staircase, she rushed the rest of the way down the stairs, past half-open bags spilling their reeking contents onto the steps.

She couldn't stay there with him. She'd been a fool to linger and let her heart overrule her head. Hadn't she learned that was stupid? Every time she gave in to her heart's yearnings for something it wanted—whether it was to let a much younger Nathaniel know how much he meant to her or to chase adventure with Alvin Lee—she'd ended up humiliated and hurt.

Esther hurried through the barely passable room, not slowing when Nathaniel called after her to make sure she wasn't hurt. She was, but not in the way he meant. It hurt to realize she still couldn't trust her heart.

Nitwit! Nitwit! Nitwit!

The accusation followed her, sounding on every step, as she found her way out of the horrible house. Fresh air struck her, and she drew in a deep, satisfying breath. Maybe it would clear her mind as well as her lungs.

Seeing Jacob trying to close the rear of the buggy, Esther went to help him. It took the two of them shoving down the panel to shut it after he'd squeezed the bags in there.

“All set,” she said with a strained smile.

“If you say so...” His voice was taut, and she shoved her problems aside. “I don't think I need all that.”

“If you're worried about Nathaniel making room for your things at his house, don't be.”

Jacob surprised her by giving her a saucy grin. “I guess you've never been inside the house.”

“I was years ago when I was about your age.”

“That's a
long
time ago.”

She smiled when she realized she was talking about a time before he was born. “Quite a long time ago. His
grossmammi
liked to quilt, so there were always partially finished projects in the living room.”

“Not any longer. There wouldn't be room for a quilt!” He started to add more, then halted when Nathaniel pushed his way out of the house and gave the pair of bags to Jacob.

“These are the last of your clothes,” he said. “You may have to hold them on your lap because I'm sure the storage area behind the seat is full.”

“Let me check to see. I think I can fit these in there.”

“Make sure the rear door closes. I don't want a trail of your things from here to Esther's house.”

The boy smiled and opened the back. Bags started to spill out, but he shoved them back inside. Tossing the other two on top, he managed to close the door again.

Jacob chattered steadily on the way to the Stoltzfus farm. That allowed Esther to avoid saying anything. Nathaniel was, she noticed, as quiet, though he replied when Jacob posed a question to him. Unlike the swift ride to Titus Fisher's house, the one back seemed too long.

As soon as the buggy stopped in front of the white barn, Esther jumped out. She was surprised when Nathaniel did, too. He told Jacob to wait while he hooked up the mules before Jacob drove the buggy to his farm. She'd assumed Nathaniel would tie the horse and buggy to the rear of his wagon.

“He'll be fine,” Nathaniel said, and she knew her thoughts were on her face. “I've had him show me how he drives, and he's better than kids twice his age. From what he's told me, he's been driving his
onkel
to appointments with
doktors
and on other errands for the past six months or more.”

She hesitated, then went with him into the barn. “Are you sure? I could drive him.”

“Then we'll need to get you back here, and chores won't wait.” He smiled. “I'll be right behind him, so he won't get any idea about racing my buggy. Not that he's foolish! The boy has a
gut
head on his shoulders.”

His words silenced her. She'd thought she had a
gut
head on her shoulders, too, but she'd let herself get caught up in racing buggies on deserted roads late at night.

Nathaniel must have taken her silence for agreement because he went to the stall where the mules watched them.

As he led Gal out to the wagon, Esther asked, “Have you noticed Jacob never calls Titus's house his home? Only his
onkel
's?”

“Now that you mention it, I have noticed that. I wonder why.”

“He lost one home and one family.” She watched Nathaniel put the patient mule into place, checking each strap and buckle to make sure it was right.

Straightening, he said, “Maybe he's afraid of losing another.”

“That's sad. No
kind
should have to worry about such things.”

“No
kind
should, but many don't have the happy and comfortable childhood you did, Esther.” His mouth grew taut, and she got the feeling he'd said something he hadn't intended to.

“But he seems happier and less weighted down since you've taken him under your wing.”

“Jacob has had too much sorrow and responsibility.” Picking up the reins, he put his hand on the wagon's seat. “
Danki
for your help today, Esther. Let me know what Reuben says.”

“I will.” She drew in a deep breath, then said something she needed to say. Something that would be for the best for Nathaniel and for her. Something to prevent any misunderstandings between them. The words were bitter on her tongue, but she hurried to say, “I'm glad you're my friend. You've been my friend since we were
kinder
, and I hope you'll be my friend for the rest of our lives.” She put her hand out and clasped his. Giving it a squeeze, she started to release it and turn away.

His fingers closed over hers, keeping her where she stood. She looked at him, astonished. Her shock became uncertainty when she saw the intensity in his gaze. Slowly, he brought her one step, then another toward him until they stood no more than a hand's breadth apart. She couldn't look away from his eyes. She longed to discover what he was thinking.

Suddenly she stiffened. What was
she
thinking? Hadn't she decided she needed to make sure he knew friendship was all they should share? She drew her arm away, and after a moment's hesitation he lifted his fingers from hers. At the same moment his eyes shuttered.

“Ja,”
he said, his voice sounding as if he were waking from a dream. Or maybe her ears made it sound that way because the moment when they'd stood face-to-face had been like something out of time.

“Ja?”
Had she missed something else he'd said?

“I mean, I'm glad, too. We're always going to be friends.” Now he was avoiding her eyes. “It's for the best.”

“For us and for Jacob.”

“Of course, for Jacob, too.” A cool smile settled on his lips. “That's what I meant.”

“I know.” She took another step away. She couldn't remember ever being less than honest with Nathaniel before.

But it was for his own
gut
.

Right?

That's right, God, isn't it?
She had to believe that, but she hadn't guessed facing the truth would be so painful.

* * *

“What a sad way for a
kind
to live!”
Mamm
clicked her tongue in dismay as she set her cup of tea on a section of the kitchen table where Esther wasn't working. “I don't know why none of us wondered about the state of the house before. An old bachelor and a young boy. Neither of them knows a lick about keeping a house.”