His Amish Sweetheart (8 page)

Esther raised her eyes from where she was kneading dough for cinnamon rolls for tomorrow's breakfast. She'd added a cup of raisins to the treat she hadn't made for the family since spring. Now she chased the raisins across the table when they popped out as she folded the dough over and pressed it down. Dusting her hands with more flour so they didn't get stickier, she continued working the dough.

“Jacob never gave us any reason to think his
onkel
wasn't taking
gut
care of him.” She beat the dough harder. “He comes to school in clean clothes, and he never smells as if he's skipped a bath.”

“Don't take out your frustration on that poor dough.”
Mamm
chuckled. “Don't blame yourself for not knowing the truth. None of us did, but now you have the responsibility of letting Reuben know.”

“I plan to speak to Reuben. I'll go over once I get the bread finished.” She was certain the bishop would know a way to help Jacob and his
onkel
without making either of them feel ashamed. She was as sure the
Leit
, the members of their district, would offer their help.

But where? At Titus's house or Nathaniel's? Jacob had mentioned in passing that the Zook farmhouse was as cluttered as his
onkel
's. She was astonished. When she'd visited Nathaniel's grandparents during her childhood, the house had been pristine. In fact, he'd joked that no dust mote ever entered because it would die of loneliness. Sometime between then and now, the condition of the house had changed.

“Going to talk to Reuben is a
gut
idea,”
Mamm
said, “but I don't think that's necessary.”

“What?” Esther looked up quickly and flour exploded from the table in a white cloud. Waving it away, she said, “
Mamm
, we need to do something. Nobody should be living in there.”
Or at Nathaniel's if it is also in such a sorry state.

“You don't need to visit Reuben, because he just pulled into the dooryard.”

“Oh.” Esther punched the dough a couple more times and then dropped it into the greased bowl she had ready. Putting a towel over it, she opened the oven she'd set to preheat at its lowest temperature. A shallow pan of water sat on the bottom rack, so the dough would stay moist in the gas oven. She put the bowl with the bread dough on the upper rack, checked the kitchen clock and closed the door. The dough needed to rise for an hour.

She began to wash the flour off her hands as her
mamm
went to the back door.

“Reuben,
komm
in,”
Mamm
said. “We were talking about Esther paying you a call later today.”

The bishop entered and took off the black wool hat he wore when he was on official business. He hung it on one of the empty pegs near
Mamm
's bonnet. His gray eyebrows matched his hair and were as bushy as his long beard. He wasn't wearing the black coat he used on church Sunday. Instead he was dressed in his everyday work clothes, patched from where he'd snagged them while working on his farm.

“A cup of
kaffi
?” Esther asked as she took another cup from the cupboard. Everyone in the district knew the bishop's weakness for strong
kaffi
.

“Ja,”
he said in his deep voice. “That sounds
gut
.”

She filled a cup for him from the pot on top of the stove. She set it in front of where he sat at the kitchen table where the top was clean. Taking her
mamm
's cup, she poured more hot water into it before placing it on the table, as well. She arranged a selection of cookies on a plate for Reuben, who had a sweet tooth.

“Pull up a chair, Esther,” Reuben said with a smile. When she did, he said, “Tell me how the boy is doing.”

“He seems as happy as he can be under the circumstances.” She was amazed she could add with a genuine smile, “Jacob has fallen in love with the alpacas at Nathaniel Zook's farm, and they're pretty much all he thinks about.”

“He needs to return to school.”

“
Ja.
He'll be back on Monday. I wanted to give him a bit of time to become accustomed to the changes in his life. That also gives me time to work with the other scholars so they understand they need to treat him with extra kindness.”

The bishop nodded. “An excellent plan. So tell me what you want to talk to me about.”

“When we took Jacob to his
onkel
's house, Nathaniel and I were disturbed by what we saw there.” Esther quickly explained the piles of papers and boxes and everything anyone could collect. She told him about the narrow walkways through the rooms, even the bathroom. “The only place not filled to overflowing is Jacob's bedroom.”

Reuben sighed and clasped his fingers around his cup. Letting the steam wash his face, he said, “I shouldn't be surprised. Titus is a
gut
man, but he's never been able to part with a single thing. I understand his
daed
was much the same, so the hoarding is not all his doing.
Danki
, Esther, for caring enough about the Fishers to want to help them. However, I'm not sure if we should do anything until we know what's going to happen with Titus. If it's God's will that he comes home, having his house cleaned out will upset him too much.”

“How is he?”
Mamm
asked.

The bishop's face seemed to grow longer. “The
doktors
aren't optimistic. At this point, they can't be sure what his condition will be if he comes out of his coma. One told me he hadn't expected Titus to last through the first night, but he's breathing on his own and his heart remains strong. Is there anything of the man himself left? Nobody can know unless he awakens.”

“Jacob will want to know how his
onkel
is doing,” Esther said.

“Having the boy visit the hospital now might not be a
gut
idea. I'd rather wait until there's some change in Titus's condition before we inflict the sight of his
onkel
, small and ill in a hospital bed, on the boy.”

“Can I tell him nothing's changed?”

“Ja.”
He took a deep sip of his
kaffi
. “I don't like not telling Jacob the whole truth, but having him worry won't help.”

Mamm
stared down into her cup. “While we're waiting, we'll pray.”

Reuben smiled and patted
Mamm
's arm. “Putting Titus in God's hands is the best place for him.”

“And Jacob, too,” Esther said softly around the tears welling in her throat.

“And Jacob, too,” repeated the bishop. “We'll need God's guidance in helping him as he faces the days to come.”

Chapter Seven

N
athaniel ignored the chilly rain coursing down the kitchen windows as he tapped his pencil against the table. In front of him were columns of numbers he'd written. No matter how he added them, his expenses almost matched his income. The money from the rents on the fields was supposed to tide him over until he could bring in his own harvest next fall.

He wasn't going to have enough. He didn't want to start selling fields to keep from losing everything. If he sold more than one or two, he wouldn't have enough land to keep the farm going.

He could look for someone to loan him enough to get through the winter, spring and summer. Someone in Paradise Springs. He wouldn't ask his parents. They had money put away, but he knew they'd pinched pennies for years hoping his
daed
could retire from the factory in a few years.

There was another reason he couldn't ask his family for help. An unopened envelope sat on the table beside his account book. He didn't need to read it, because he knew his
mamm
was pleading with him again to return to Indiana where
doktors
would be able to help him if “the scourge” returned. He'd told her so many times that he hadn't needed to see an oncologist in six years. She refused to listen to the facts, still too shaken by what he'd gone through to believe the battle against his cancer had been won.

He pushed back his chair, something he was able to do now that he and Jacob had moved more of them into the barn. Leaning on the chair's two rear legs, he raked his fingers through his hair. There must be some way to keep the farm going until the fields produced enough that he didn't have to keep buying feed for the animals.

His
grossmammi
had bought the alpacas. Her mind had not been as muddled at the end of her life as his
grossdawdi'
s apparently had been. She'd intended the herd to be more than pets.

Hadn't she?

Looking across the kitchen, he stood. He paused when he heard footsteps upstairs. He was still getting accustomed to having someone else in the house, but he was glad Jacob was settling in well. Today would be the last school day he was skipping. On Monday, Nathaniel would have him there before Esther rang the bell.

Esther...everything led to her. When he'd held her close as the stair splintered, any thought of Esther the Pester disappeared as he savored the warmth of the woman she'd become. If she hadn't pulled away then—and again at her house—he wasn't sure if he could have resisted the temptation to kiss her. Just once. To see what it would be like. He should be grateful she'd stepped away, because when he was honest with himself, he doubted a single kiss would have been enough.

He couldn't kiss her when he couldn't offer to marry her. Assuming she'd be willing to be his wife, he couldn't ask her. He'd first have to tell her the truth about his inability to give her
kinder
, and he didn't want to see pity in her expressive eyes.

Hochmut.
Pride was what it was, and he wasn't ready to admit he wasn't the man he'd hoped to be: a man with dreams—no, expectations—of a home filled with
kinder
.

You could tell her the truth.
His conscience spoke with his
grossmammi
's voice. When he was young, she'd been the one to sit and talk to him about why things were right or wrong. Everyone else laid down the rules and expected him to obey them. Because of that, he shouldn't be surprised her voice was in his head, telling him that he was trying to fool himself.

Nathaniel grumbled under his breath. God had given him this path to walk.
Forgive me, Lord. You have blessed me with life, and I'm grateful.

He went into the living room and to the bookcase next to his
grossmammi
's quilting frame. Scanning the lower of the two shelves, he smiled as he drew out a thin black book. It was the accounts book his
grossmammi
had kept until she became ill. When he'd first arrived, he'd scanned its pages and seen something about income from the alpacas in it.

Returning to the kitchen table, he began to flip through it. His eyes narrowed when he noticed a listing for income from the alpacas' wool. He'd assumed they were sheared in the spring, and the dates of the entries in the account book confirmed that.

How did someone shear an alpaca? He'd seen demonstrations of sheepshearing at fairs, but had never seen anyone shear an alpaca. The beasts were bigger and stronger—and more intelligent—than sheep. Three factors that warned it'd be more difficult to shear them.

Jacob came into the kitchen and went to the refrigerator. He pulled out the jar of church spread and reached for the loaf of bread.

“Hungry already?” Nathaniel asked.

“It's noon.”

“Really?” Nathaniel glanced at the clock, startled to see the morning had ended while he was poring over his accounts...and thinking of Esther.

Closing the account book, he stuck his mother's letter in
Grossmammi
's book to mark the page with the entry about the alpacas' wool. He'd deal with writing back to
Mamm
later, and he'd ask Esther about shearing the alpacas when he and Jacob attended services in her district on Sunday.

“Do you want a sandwich?” asked Jacob as he slathered a generous portion of the sticky, sweet spread on two slices of bread.

Before Nathaniel could reply, a knock came at the kitchen door. Who was out on such a nasty day? Dread sank through him like a boulder in a pool. Was it Reuben or Isaiah with news about Jacob's
onkel
?

Please, God, hold Jacob close to You.

His feet felt as if they had drying concrete clinging to them as he went to the door. He couldn't keep from glancing at the boy. Jacob was moving his knife back and forth on the bread, making patterns in the church spread. The boy tried to look nonchalant, but Nathaniel knew Jacob's thoughts were identical to his own.

Be with him, Lord. He needs You more than ever right now.

Hoping no sign of his thoughts was visible, Nathaniel opened the door. So sure was he that a messenger with bad news would be there that he could only stare at Esther. Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and it was as if the clouds had been swept from the sky. A warmth like bright summer sunshine draped over him, easing the bands around his heart, a tautness that had become so familiar he'd forgotten it was there until it loosened. Suddenly he felt as if he could draw a deep breath for the first time in more years than he wanted to count.

“Hi.” Esther smiled. “We're here for a sister day.”

“You want to have a sister day
here
?” Nathaniel's voice came out in a startled squeak as he looked past Esther, noticing for the first time that she wasn't alone. Behind her were two other women.

They crowded under the small overhang as they tried to get out of the rain. Each carried cleaning supplies, and he heard rain falling into at least one of the plastic buckets. Looking more closely, he realized one of the other women was Esther's older sister Ruth. She hadn't changed much because she'd been pretty much grown when he left Paradise Springs. She was more than a decade older than Esther and very pregnant.

He didn't recognize the younger blonde who was also several years older than Esther. When the woman smiled and introduced herself as Leah Beiler, he wondered why she was involved in a sister day with Esther and Ruth. He didn't want to embarrass her by asking.

“It's a school day,” he managed to blurt out.

“Neva is teaching today. I decided I was needed here more than there.”

“I don't understand.”

“May we come in?” Esther asked, her smile never wavering. “I'll explain once we're out of the rain.”

“Of course.” He stepped aside so she and the other two women could enter. Hearing footsteps rushing into the front room, he knew Jacob was making himself and his sandwich scarce. Did the boy think his teacher was there to bring the schoolwork he'd missed?

“Do you remember Ruth?” Esther motioned for her sister to come forward. “She offered to help when she heard what I planned to do.”

“Danki,”
he said, not sure why. It seemed the right thing to say.

Ruth, who resembled their
mamm
more than any of the other Stoltzfus
kinder
, nodded as she walked through the kitchen into the even more cluttered living room.

“Leah's already told you her name.” Esther put her arm around the blonde's shoulders. “I don't know if you two ever met. The Beilers live on the farm next to ours.” Without a pause, she went on, “We thought you could use a little help getting settled in here, Nathaniel.”

Her sister grumbled, “It'll take more than a little help.”

Esther ignored her and lowered her voice. “Jacob mentioned when we were at Titus's house that yours didn't look much better. I'm glad to see he was exaggerating.”

“Not much.” He put his hands on the backs of two chairs he'd pushed to one side. “My grandparents accumulated lots of things. I don't remember so many chairs when I came to visit.”

“That, as Jacob reminded me the last time we talked, was a very long time ago. How were you to know what was going on while you were far away?”

Was she accusing him of staying away on purpose? When he saw her gentle smile, he knew he was allowing his own guilt at not returning to Paradise Springs while his grandparents were alive trick him into hearing a rebuke where there wasn't one. Except from within himself. For so long his parents had insisted he do nothing to jeopardize his health. He'd begun to feel as if he lived in a cage. The chance to try to make his dream come true had thrown a door open for him, and he'd left for Pennsylvania as soon as he could purchase a ticket.

“Where would you like us to start?” Esther's question yanked him out of his uncomfortable thoughts.

“You really don't need to do this. The boy and I are doing okay.”

“I know we don't need to, but we'd like to.”

“Really—”

He was halted when Leah smiled and said, “I've known Esther most of her life, and I can tell you that you're not going to change her mind.”

“True.” He laughed, wondering why he was making such a big deal out of a kindness. “I've noticed that about her, too.”

“I'm sure you have.” Leah chuckled before taking off her black bonnet and putting it on a chair. Instead of a
kapp
, she wore a dark kerchief over her pale hair.

Esther and her sister had work kerchiefs on, as well. He wasn't surprised when Esther toed off her shoes and stuffed her socks into them. She left them by the door when she picked up her bucket and a mop.

“You need a wife, Nathaniel Zook!” announced Ruth from the living room in her no-nonsense voice. “If you cook as poorly as you keep house, you and the boy will starve.”

“I'm an adequate cook. Jacob is fond of church spread sandwiches.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “You can't feed a boy only peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches.”

“I know. Sometimes we have apple butter sandwiches, instead.”

When her sister drew in a deep breath to retort, Esther interjected, “He's teasing you.” She and Leah laughed, but Ruth frowned at them before she began pushing chairs toward the walls so she could sweep the floor.

Esther went to the sink. Sticking the bucket under the faucet, she started to fill it.

“You'll have to let it run a bit to get hot,” he called over the splash of water in the bucket.

She tilted the bucket to let the water flow out. Holding her fingers under the faucet to gauge the temperature, she gave him a cheeky grin. “You need to have Micah come over and put a solar panel or two on your roof. You'll have hot water whenever you want it.”

“Are you trying to drum up business for your brother?”

“You know how we Stoltzfuses stick together.” She laughed lightly.

He did know that. It had been one of the things he'd first noticed about the family when he was young. Esther and her brothers might spat with each other, but they were a united front if anyone else confronted them. That they'd included him in their bond had been a precious part of his childhood in Paradise Springs.

Esther shooed him out of the kitchen so she and the others could get to work. He paused long enough to collect the sandwich Jacob must have made for him. Not wanting to leave the boy alone in the house with women determined to chase every speck of dirt from it, he called up the stairs. Jacob came running, and they made a hasty retreat to the barn.

“I hope they leave my things alone,” the boy said when they walked into the barn and out of the rain.

“Don't worry.” Nathaniel winked. “Your bedroom and mine should pass their inspection without them doing any work.”

Jacob looked dubious, and Nathaniel swallowed his laugh. After he set the boy to work breaking a bale of hay to feed the horses and the mules, he went to get water for the animals. He stood under the barn's overhang and used the hand pump to fill a pair of buckets.

Hearing feminine laughter through a window opened enough to let air in but not the rain, he easily picked out Esther's lyrical laugh. He couldn't help imagining how it would be to hear such a sound coming from the house day after day. Listening to it would certainly make any work in the barn a lighter task.

“Hey, stop pumping!” cried Jacob from the doorway.

Nathaniel looked down to see water running from the bucket under the spout and washing over his work boots. He quickly released the pump's handle. Pulling the bucket aside, he sloshed more water out.

“Are you okay?” Jacob asked.

“Fine. Just daydreaming.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important,” he replied, knowing it wasn't a lie because what he'd been imagining wasn't ever going to come true. He needed to work on the dream he could make a reality—saving the farm from being sold. Otherwise, he'd have no choice but to return to Indiana and a life of working at the RV plant. He couldn't envision a much worse fate. He'd be stuck inside and never have the chance to bring plants out of nourishing soil.