His Amish Sweetheart (9 page)

And he wouldn't see Esther again.

He tried to pay no attention to the pulse of pain throbbing through him. Picking up the bucket, he walked into the barn. The boy followed, chattering about the alpacas, but Nathaniel didn't hear a single word other than the ones playing through his head.
You've got to make this farm a success.

* * *

Esther wasn't surprised that the attic with its sharply slanting roof was filled with more chairs. What about them had fascinated Nathaniel's grandparents so much?

She wasn't sitting on one. Instead, she perched on a small stool so she could go through the boxes stacked beside her. Ruth and Leah had gone home an hour ago after leaving the house's two main floors sparkling and clean. Esther had remained behind, because she'd suspected the attic would be overflowing with forgotten things.

She'd found two baseball bats and a well-used glove that needed to be oiled because the leather was cracking. Jacob might put the items to
gut
use. In addition, she'd set a nice propane light to one side for Nathaniel to take downstairs, because it was too heavy for her to carry. If he put it by the small table in the living room, Jacob would have light to do one of the puzzles she'd stacked by the top of the attic stairs. As the weather grew colder and the days shorter, the boy would be confined more and more to the house.

Opening the next box, she peered into it with the help of a small flashlight. She wanted to make sure, before she plunged her hands into it that no spiders had taken up residence inside.

“Finding anything interesting?”

Esther glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Nathaniel on the stairs. His hair was drying unevenly, strands springing out in every direction. He looked as rumpled and dusty as she felt, but she had to admit that looked
gut
on him. And she liked looking.

The thought startled her. Nathaniel was a handsome man, as he'd been a
gut
-looking boy. But she wanted his friendship now. Nothing more. She didn't want to make another mistake with her heart. It hadn't seemed wrong at the time when she discovered that Alvin Lee had loved racing. She'd been seeking an adventure. Exactly as Nathaniel was with his all-or-nothing attitude toward the farm.

She never again wanted the insecurity of wondering if the next dare to race a buggy or have a drink would lead to more trouble than she could get out of. Or of suspecting Alvin Lee might not be honest about being in love with her, despite his glib comments about how she was the one and only girl for him. Or of realizing, almost too late, how much her sense of her self-worth was in jeopardy.

No, she must not be foolish and risk her heart again.

She and Nathaniel must remain just friends.

Right?

She tightened her clasped fingers until she heard her knuckles creak. Why did she have to keep convincing herself?

Making sure she had an innocuous smile in place, she raised her eyes to meet Nathaniel's. “I've found a couple of useful things. I'm not sure I'd describe them as interesting.”

“Useful is
gut
.” He stepped into the attic but had to bend so he didn't bump his head on the low ceiling. Glancing around, he said, “I've been meaning to come up here to sort things out since I moved back, but somehow the day flies past and I haven't gotten around to it.”

“Where's Jacob?”

“In the barn. He's hoping to coax an alpaca to come to him. He's determined. I'll give him that.”

“He's patient. One of these days, he'll succeed.”

“If anyone can, it'll be him.” Nathaniel looked into the box in front of her and grinned. Reaching in, he pulled out a pair of roller skates. He set the pairs of wheels spinning. “I remember these.
Grossdawdi
bought them for me when my parents refused to let us have roller skates.
Mamm
feared we'd break our necks—or get used to going fast so we'd never be content driving a buggy instead of a fast
Englisch
car.”

“She thought you'd get what the
kinder
call the need for speed.”

He laughed. “
Ja.
My grandparents kept the skates here and never told my folks about them, though I suspect
Mamm
grew suspicious when I returned home from visits too often with the knees on my trousers ripped. She never asked how I'd torn them, so the skates remained a secret.”

“I remember you bringing them to our farm. You and my brothers used to have a great time skating in the barn.”

“The only place smooth enough for the wheels other than the road, and your
mamm
wisely wouldn't allow us to play there.” He set the skates on the floor beside the box. “Did you ever get a pair of your own?”

“I did. Hand-me-downs from one of my brothers, but I was thrilled to have them so I didn't have to walk to school in the fall and spring.” She picked up one skate and appraised it. The black leather shoe wasn't in much better shape than the baseball glove, but with some saddle soap and attention it could be made useful again. “These look close to Jacob's size.”

“I'll give them to him if you'll skate with us next Saturday.”

“What?”

His eyes twinkled. “Don't pretend you didn't hear me promise your brother—our preacher—I'd make sure Jacob was kept safe. If I'm going to give him these skates, then we should make sure the boy has a place to enjoy them and someone to watch over him so he doesn't get hurt.” He grinned. “I'll need someone to show me how to patch his trousers when he tears the knees out of them, too.”

“You don't have any skates, do you?”

“I can get a pair. Does your brother sell them at his store?”

She shook her head. “Amos mostly sells food and household goods.”

“There must be a shop nearby that sells them. I've seen quite a few boys and at least three or four men using Rollerblades to get around.”

“Why don't you ask Amos? He usually knows where to send his customers for items he doesn't carry.” She set the wheels on the skate spinning and grinned. “I used to love roller skating.”

“Do you still have your skates?”

“Not the ones from back then. They were about the same size as these.” She laughed as she held one against her foot. “My feet have grown since then. Besides, I don't skate any longer.”

“Too grown-up?” he asked with a teasing smile, but she heard an undertone of serious curiosity in the question.

“Too busy to stay in practice.”

He took the skate from her and set it next to the baseball bat. When he looked at her, his smile was gone. “I should have said this first thing.
Danki
for having your sister day here. I'm amazed at what you did downstairs in a few hours. Everything is clean, and many of the chairs are gone. Where did you put them?”

“Leah and I took most down to the cellar. We stacked the ones that would stack. The rest are out of the way behind the racks where your
grossmammi
stored her canned goods.”

“
Danki.
That's a
gut
place for them until I can start donating them to mud sales in the spring.”

“You may be able to get rid of them before then. Isaiah mentioned at supper last night that plans are being made for a community fund-raiser to help pay for Titus's hospital bills.”

“I'd be glad to give the chairs to such a
gut
cause.”

“I'll let him know.”

He studied the attic again. “I should have known you'd be up here. You always liked poking around here when you and your brothers came over to play.”

“Your
grossmammi
enjoyed having someone who'd listen to her stories about your ancestors who lived here long before she was born.”

He squatted beside her. “Do you remember those stories?”

“A few.”

“Would you share them with me?”

“Now?”

“No.” His voice softened, drawing her eyes toward him. “Sometime when I can write down what you remember.”

“You don't remember her stories?”

“I didn't listen.” His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “I was too busy thinking of the mischief I could get into next to worry about long-dead relatives.” His gaze swept the attic before meeting hers. “Now I'd give almost anything to hear her tell those stories again.”

Her hand reached out to his damp cheek. He leaned against it, but his eyes continued to search hers. What did he hope to see? The answers to his questions? She doubted she recalled enough of his
grossmammi
's stories to ease his curiosity.

“We learn too late to value what we have,” he whispered. “By then, it may be lost to us forever.”

Were they still talking about his
grossmammi
's stories? She wasn't sure, and when he ran a single fingertip along her cheek, she quivered beneath his questioning touch. His finger slid down her neck, setting her skin trembling in anticipation of his caress. When his hand curved around her nape, he tilted her lips toward his.

A warning voice in her mind shouted for her to pull back, stand, leave, anything but move closer to him. She heard it as if from a great distance. All that existed were his dark eyes and warm breath enticing her nearer.

“Nathaniel,
komm
now!” Jacob exploded into the attic. He bounced from one foot to the other in his anxiety. Water pooled on the floor beneath him.

Esther drew away, blinking as if waking from a
wunderbaar
dream. She came to her feet when Nathaniel did. He glanced at her, but she looked away. She wasn't sure if she was more distressed because she'd almost succumbed to his touch or because they'd been interrupted.

Jacob's face was as gray as the storm clouds. What was wrong? She peered out the attic window. Through the thick curtain of rain, no other buggies were in sight, so Jacob couldn't have received any news about his
onkel
.

Nathaniel asked what was wrong in a voice far calmer than she could have managed, and the boy began to talk so quickly his words tumbled over one another, making his answer unintelligible. She thought she picked out a few phrases, but they didn't make sense.

...in the side of the barn...

...just missed...

Hurry!

The last he repeated over and over as they followed him downstairs and outside.

What
had happened?

Chapter Eight

W
ind-driven rain struck her face like dozens of icy needles, but Esther didn't return to the house for her bonnet or shawl. She ran to keep up with Jacob and Nathaniel. The boy didn't slow as he reached the barn. Throwing open the door, he vanished inside.

The interior of the barn was darker than the rainy day. Scents of hay and animals were thick, but not unpleasant. She blinked to get her eyes to adjust to the dimness, glad the roof didn't leak. Seeing Jacob rush through the door leading outside toward the pasture where the alpacas were kept, she swallowed a groan, ducked her head and followed.

The rain seemed chillier and the wind more ferocious. It tugged at her bandanna, and she put a hand on it to keep the square from flying off.

Looking over his shoulder, Jacob motioned for them to hurry. He ran toward the alpacas, for the first time not being cautious with them. The frightened creatures scattered like a group of marbles struck at the beginning of a game. At the far end of the field, they gathered together so closely they looked like a single multiheaded creature. Something must be horribly wrong for Jacob to act like this.

Her foot slipped on the wet grass, and she slowed to get her balance. Ahead of her, Nathaniel had caught up with the boy.

“Here! See it?” Jacob pointed at the side of the alpacas' shed.

She heard Nathaniel gasp. She ran faster and slid to a stop when she saw what the boy was pointing to.

An arrow! An arrow was protruding from the side of the small building. She choked on a gasp of her own.

Whirling, she ran into the shed. The steel point of the arrowhead protruded from the wall. She didn't touch it, knowing the point would be as sharp as a freshly honed razor.

She came back outside to see Nathaniel pulling the arrow out of the shed. He held it carefully and scanned the fields around the house and barn. She did, too, squinting through the rain trying to blind her.

“Where did it come from?” Nathaniel mused aloud.

“Probably a deer hunter,” she said.

“They shouldn't be firing close to the alpacas.”

She scowled. “I doubt it was
close
to the alpacas. More likely, someone was aiming
at
your herd. The light brown ones are fairly close to the color of a deer.”

When Jacob cried out in horror, she regretted her words. Why hadn't she thought before she'd spoken?

“They don't have antlers, and they're not the same shape or size as a deer.” Jacob looked at Nathaniel for him to back up his assertion.

She selected her words carefully, not wanting to upset the boy—or Nathaniel—more. “At this time of year, archers can shoot does as well as bucks. Irresponsible, over-eager hunters have been known to shoot at anything that moves. Ezra always has his Brown Swiss cows in a pasture next to the barn during archery season. Once the hunters can use guns, he brings the whole herd inside for the winter.”

“You're joking.” Nathaniel put his arm around Jacob's shoulders, and she noticed how the boy was shaking.

With fear or fury? Maybe both.

“No,” she replied with a sad smile. “Some hunters shouldn't be allowed to hunt because they don't take the proper precautions when they're in the woods or traipsing across the fields. They ignore farmland posted No Trespassing. They're a danger to themselves and everyone else. Don't you remember how it was when you lived here years ago? Every fall someone loses a dog or some other animal because of clueless hunters.”

“I remember.”

“To be honest, we count ourselves blessed when no
person
is hurt or killed.” With a sigh, she wiped rain out of her hair. “Right now, we need to check the herd and make sure none of them was hit. As frightened as they are, clumped together, it's impossible to tell if one is bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” cried Jacob. “No!”

Nathaniel put his hand on the boy's shoulder. “Let's pray they're fine. But we need to check them. Do you remember how Esther got the alpacas into the shed?”

Jacob nodded.

“
Gut.
I'll need your help and Esther's, so we can examine them. They'll have to stay in until...” He looked at her.

“Until mid-December,” she said. “I'm not exactly sure when hunting season is over, but I can check with Ezra. He'll know.”

“That's a long time,” Jacob grumbled. “The alpacas like being outside.”

“When they can come out again, it'll be nice and cool.” Nathaniel smiled. “With their wool getting thicker, they'll be more comfortable then.”

Jacob jumped to another subject with the innocence of a
kind
. He pointed to the arrow Nathaniel still held. “Can I have that?”

* * *

Nathaniel didn't wait for Esther to reply. Though she'd be cautious with the boy—after all, she seemed to be cautious with everything now—he didn't want to delay getting the alpacas into the barn. Not just the herd, but Esther and Jacob, too. The hunter might still be nearby and decide to try another shot at the “deer.”

With a smile, he said, “I'll give you its feathers, Jacob. How's that?”

“Great!” His grin reappeared as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Let's get the alpacas inside first.”

“Okay.” He ran to get the two branches Nathaniel used to move the alpacas.

“Well done,” Esther said quietly, and he knew she didn't want Jacob to overhear. “He can't hurt himself with feathers. If he had the arrow, he'd be sure to nick himself.”

“I'll make sure it gets disposed of where no
kinder
can find it.”

“
Gut.
There can't be any chance Jacob will decide to see if he can make it fly.”

“As we would have?”

She scowled. “We were foolish
kinder
back then. I've learned it's better to err on the side of caution.”

“You?” He began to laugh, then halted when she didn't join in.

“
Ja.
I don't know why you find it hard to believe.”

He could have given her a dozen reasons, but she walked away before he could speak. Pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, he watched as she took the branches from Jacob and sent the boy running to open the barn door.

What had changed Esther so much? It was more than the fact that she'd grown up. He had, too, especially after facing cancer, but he hadn't lost his love of the occasional adventure. Yet whenever he hinted at fun, she acted as if he'd suggested something scandalous. What had happened to her, and why was she keeping it a secret?

Her shout for him to get inside with Jacob so the alpacas didn't see them spurred him to action. As he went into the barn, making sure the door was propped open, he saw the alpacas milling about, frightened and more uncooperative than they'd been since he'd arrived at the farm.

More quickly than he'd have guessed she could, she moved the herd into the pen at one side of the barn. He closed the door and dropped the bar, locking it into place so the alpacas couldn't push against the door and escape.

Esther moved among them, talking softly. She might be perturbed with him, but she was gentle with the terrified beasts. While she checked the alpacas in the center of the herd, he and Jacob walked around the outside, keeping the creatures from fleeing to the corners of the pen before she could look at them.

Nearly a half hour later, she edged out of the herd and motioned for him and Jacob to step back. The alpacas turned as one. They rushed toward the door, halting when they realized the opening was gone. Moving along the wall, they searched for it.

“They'll calm down soon.” Esther wiped her apron. It was covered with bits of wool and debris that had been twisted into the alpacas' coats. “Are you going to let the police know what happened?”

Nathaniel couldn't hide his shock because the Amish didn't involve outsiders unless it was a true emergency. “Why? Nobody was hurt.”

“This time.”

He shook his head. “I won't go to the police without alerting Reuben and my district's preachers first.”

“Talk to them. No one was hurt this time, but someone fired off an arrow without thinking of where it could fly.” She glanced at Jacob, who was watching the alpacas intently, but didn't speak his name.

There was no need. He understood what she hadn't said. Jacob was near the alpacas whenever he could be. A careless shot could strike him. Nathaniel needed to protect the boy who was his responsibility while his
onkel
was in the hospital.

As if the boy had guessed the course of his thoughts, Jacob asked, “Can I take the feathers and show them to
Onkel
Titus?”

This time, Nathaniel didn't have a swift answer. He thanked God that Esther spoke in a tone suggesting it was a question she'd expected, “As soon as the
doktors
say we can visit the hospital, you can take the feathers and tell your
onkel
about today.”

“He'll be proud of me for not pulling out the arrow myself.” The boy grinned.

“
Ja
, he will.”

“He says no one should handle any weapon until they've learned how to use it the right way.”

“Your
onkel
is a wise man.” She returned his smile, and Nathaniel tried to do the same, though the expression felt like a gruesome mask.

“Because he's old.” Jacob spoke with the certainty of his eight years. “He's had lots of time to learn.” He pulled his gaze from the alpacas, which were already less frantic, and glanced over his shoulder. “That's what he tells me when I make a mistake or touch his stuff when I know I shouldn't.”

Esther's smile grew taut, and Nathaniel gave up any attempt at one. Every time the boy mentioned his
onkel
's obsession with those piles of junk, Nathaniel was torn between hugging the boy and wishing he could remind Titus that Jacob was more important than any metal or broken wood.

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.”