“Why? Were you sick?”
“Ja.”
“All winter?”
“You know how mamms can be. Always worrying.” He gathered the last bits of cardboard and dropped them into the other box. Brushing dirt off himself, he grimaced as he tapped his left knee. “Grass stains on my gut church clothes. Mamm wouldn’t be happy to see that.”
He looked very handsome in his black vest and trousers, which gave his dark hair a ruddy sheen. The white shirt emphasized his strong arms and shoulders. She’d noticed his shoulders when she tumbled against him at school.
“If you want,” she said when she realized she was staring. “I’ll clean them.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” He carried the boxes to the porch. “You’ve got enough to do keeping up with your brothers.”
“One more pair of trousers won’t make any difference.” She smiled as she walked with him toward the kitchen door. “Trust me.”
“I do, and my alpacas do, too. It was amazing how you calmed them.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“I don’t know if I can convince them to trust me as they do you. It might be impossible. Though obviously not for Esther Stoltzfus, the alpaca whisperer.”
She laughed, then halted when she saw a buggy driving at top speed along the farm lane. Even from a distance, she recognized her brother Isaiah driving it. She glanced at Nathaniel, then ran to where the buggy was stopping. Only something extremely important would cause Isaiah to leave his blacksmith shop in the middle of the day.
He climbed out, his face lined with dismay. “Esther, where are the kinder?”
“Behind the house having lunch.”
“Gut.” He looked from her to Nathaniel. “There’s no way to soften this news. Titus Fisher has had a massive stroke and is on his way to the hospital.”
Esther gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.
“Are you here to get the boy?” asked Nathaniel.
“I’m not sure he should go to the hospital until Titus is stable.” Isaiah turned to her. “What do you think, Esther?”
“I think he needs to be told his onkel is sick, but nothing more now. No need to scare him. Taking him to the hospital can wait until we know more.”
“That’s what I thought, but you know him better than I do.” He sighed. “The poor kind. He’s already suffered enough. Tonight—”
“He can stay here,” Nathaniel said quietly.
“Are you sure?” her brother asked, surprised.
“I’ve got plenty of room,” Nathaniel said, “and the boy seems fascinated by my alpacas.”
Isaiah looked at her for confirmation.
She nodded, knowing it was the best solution under the circumstances.
“I’ll let Reuben know.” He sighed again. “Just in case.”
“Tell the bishop that Jacob can stay here as long as he needs to,” Nathaniel said.
“That should work out...unless his onkel dies. Then the Bureau of Children and Family Services will have to get involved.”
Nathaniel frowned, standing as resolute as one of the martyrs of old.
Before he could retort, Esther said, “Let’s deal with one problem at a time.” She prayed it wouldn’t get to that point. And if it did, there must be some plan to give Jacob the family he needed without Englisch interference. She had no idea what, but they needed to figure it out fast.
Esther looked around for Jacob as soon as her brother left. Isaiah was bound for their bishop’s house. He and Reuben planned to hire an Englisch driver to take them to the hospital where they would check on Titus Fisher.
She wasn’t surprised Jacob had left the other scholars and gone to watch the alpacas. The boy stood by the fence, his fingers stuck through the chicken wire in an offer for the shy beasts to come over and sniff them. The alpacas were ignoring him from the far end of the pasture.
The sight almost broke her heart. Jacob, who was small for his age and outwardly fragile, stood alone as he reached out to connect with another creature.
“Are you okay?” asked Nathaniel as he walked beside her toward the pasture.
“Not really.” She squared her shoulders, knowing she must not show the kind how sorry she felt for him. Jacob reacted as badly to pity as he did to teasing. He’d endured too much during his short life.
Suddenly she stopped and put out her arm to halt Nathaniel. He frowned at her, but, putting her fingers to her lips, she whispered, “Shhh...”
In the pasture, one of the younger alpacas inched away from the others, clearly curious about the boy who had been standing by the fence for so long. The light brown female stretched out her neck and sniffed the air as if trying to determine what sort of animal Jacob was. Glancing at the rest of the herd, she took one step, then another toward him.
The boy didn’t move, but Esther guessed his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. A smile tipped his lips, the first one she’d ever seen on his face.
In the distance, the voices of the other scholars fluttered on the air, but Nathaniel and Esther remained as silent as Jacob. The alpaca’s curiosity overcame her shyness, and she continued toward the boy. His smile broadened on every step, but he kept his outstretched fingers steady.
The alpaca paused an arm’s length away, then took another step. She extended her head toward his fingertips, sniffing and curious.
Beside her, Esther heard Nathaniel whisper, “Keep going, girl. He needs you now.”
Her heart was touched by his empathy for the kind. Nathaniel’s generous spirit hadn’t changed. He’d always been someone she could depend on, the very definition of a gut friend. He still was, offering kindness to a lonely boy. Her fingers reached out to his arm, wanting to squeeze it gently to let him know how much she appreciated his understanding of what Jacob needed.
Her fingers halted midway between them as a squeal came from near the house where the other scholars must be playing a game. At the sound, the alpaca whirled and loped back to the rest of the herd.
“Almost,” Jacob muttered under his breath.
Walking to the boy, Esther fought her instinct to put her hand on his shoulder. That would send him skittering away like the curious alpaca. “It’ll take them time to trust you, Jacob, but you’ve made a gut beginning.”
When he glanced at her, for once his face wasn’t taut with determination to hide his pain. She saw something she’d never seen there before.
Hope.
“Do you think so?” he asked.
She nodded. She must be as cautious with him as she was with the alpacas. “It’ll take time and patience on your part, but eventually they learn to trust.”
“Eventually?” His face hardened into an expression no kind should ever wear. “I guess that’s that, then. We’ll be leaving for school soon, ain’t so?”
He’d given her the opening to tell him the bad news Isaiah had brought. She must tell him the truth now, but she must be careful how she told him until they were sure about Titus Fisher’s prognosis.
“Jacob, I need to tell you about something that’s happened,” she began.