Learn from your failures, or you’ll fail to learn. A poster saying that hung in the schoolroom. She needed to remember those words and hold them close to her heart. She vowed to do so, starting that very second.
* * *
As Nathaniel drove his buggy into the farm lane leading to the large white farmhouse where the Stoltzfus family lived, he couldn’t keep from grinning. He’d looked forward to seeing them as much as he had his grandparents when he’d spent a summer in Paradise Springs years ago. Micah and Daniel had imaginations that had cooked up mischief to keep their summer days filled with adventures. Not even chores could slow down their laugh-filled hours.
Then there was Esther. She’d been brave enough to try anything and never quailed before a challenge. The twins had been less willing to accept every dare he posed. Not Esther. He remembered the buzz of excitement he’d felt the afternoon she’d agreed to jump from the second story hayloft if he did.
He knew he was going to have to be that gutsy if he hoped to save his grandparents’ farm. It’d been in the family for generations, and he didn’t want to be the one to sell it. Even if he couldn’t have kinder of his own to inherit it, his two oldest sisters were already married with bopplin. One of them might want to take over the farm, and he didn’t want to lose it because he hadn’t learned quickly enough.
Esther agreeing to help him with the alpacas might be the saving grace he’d prayed for. If it wasn’t, he could be defeated before he began.
No, I’m not going to think that way. I’m not going to give up before I’ve barely begun. He got out of the buggy. Things were going to get better. Starting now. He had to believe God’s hands were upon the inheritance that gave him a chance to make his dream of running his own farm come true.
He strode toward the white house’s kitchen door. Nobody used the front door except for church Sundays and funerals. The house and white outbuildings hadn’t changed much in ten years. There was a third silo by the largest barn, and instead of the black-and-white cows Esther’s daed used to milk, grayish-brown cattle stood in the pasture. The chicken coop was closer to the house than he remembered, and extra buggies and wagons were parked beneath the trees.
He paused at the door. He’d never knocked at the Stoltzfus house before, but somehow it didn’t feel right to walk in. Too many years had passed since the last time he’d come to the farm.
“Why are you standing on the steps?” came a friendly female voice as the door swung open. “Komm in, Nate. We’re about to enjoy some snitz pie.”
Wanda Stoltzfus, Esther’s mamm, looked smaller than he remembered. He knew she hadn’t shrunk; he’d grown. Her hair had strands of gray woven through it, but her smile was as warm as ever.
“Did you make the pie?” he asked, delighted to see the welcome in eyes almost the same shade as her daughter’s.
“Do you think I’d trust anyone, even my own kinder, with my super secret recipe for dried-apple pie while there’s breath in these old bones?” She stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.
“You aren’t old, Wanda,” he replied.
“And you haven’t lost an ounce of the charm you used as a boy to try to wheedle extra treats from me.”
He heard a snicker and looked past her. Esther was at the stove, pouring freshly brewed kaffi into one cup after the other. The sound hadn’t come from her, but his gaze had riveted on her. She looked pretty and somehow younger and more vulnerable now that she was barefoot and had traded her starched kapp for a dark kerchief over her golden hair. He could see the little girl she’d been transposed over the woman she had become, and his heart gave a peculiar little stutter.
What was that? He hadn’t felt its like before, and he wasn’t sure what was causing it now. Esther was his childhood friend. Why was he nervous?
Hearing another laugh, Nathaniel pulled his gaze from her and looked at the table where six of the seven Stoltzfus brothers were gathered. Joshua, whom he’d recently heard had married again after the death of his first wife, and Ruth, the oldest, who had been wed long enough to have given her husband a houseful of kinder, were missing. A pulse of sorrow pinched at him because he noticed Ezra was sitting where Paul, the family’s late patriarch, had sat. Paul had welcomed him into the family as if Nathaniel were one of his own sons.
Nathaniel stared at the men rising from the table. It was startling to see his onetime childhood playmates grown up. He’d known time hadn’t stood still for them. Yet the change was greater than he’d guessed. Isaiah wore a beard that was patchy and sparse. He must be married, though Nathaniel hadn’t heard about it. All the Stoltzfus brothers were tall, well-muscled from hard work and wore friendly smiles.
Then the twins opened their mouths and asked him how he liked running what they called the Paradise Springs Municipal Zoo. Nothing important had changed, he realized. They enjoyed teasing each other and everyone around them, and he was their chosen target tonight. Nothing they said was cruel. They poked fun as much at themselves as anyone else. Their eyes hadn’t lost the mischievous glint that warned another prank was about to begin.
For the first time since he’d returned to Paradise Springs, he didn’t feel like a stranger. He was among friends.
Nathaniel sat at the large table. When Esther put a slice of pie and a steaming cup of kaffi in front of him, he thanked her. She murmured something before hurrying away to bring more cups to the table. He had no chance to talk to her because her brothers kept him busy with questions. He was amazed to learn that Jeremiah, who’d been all thumbs as a boy, now was a master woodworker, and Isaiah was a blacksmith as well as one of the district’s ministers. Amos leaned over to whisper that Isaiah’s young bride had died a few months earlier, soon after Isaiah had been chosen by lot to be the new minister.
Saddened by the family’s loss, he knew he should wait until he had a chance to talk to Isaiah alone before he expressed his condolences. He sensed how hard Isaiah was trying to join in the gut humor around the table.
Nathaniel answered their questions about discovering the alpacas on the farm and explained how he planned to plant the fields in the spring. “Right now, the fields are rented to neighbors, so I can’t cut a single blade of grass to feed those silly creatures this winter.”
“You’re staying in Paradise Springs?” Wanda asked.
“That’s my plan.” His parents weren’t pleased he’d left Indiana, though they’d pulled up roots in Lancaster County ten years ago. He’d already received half a dozen letters from his mamm pleading for him to come home. She acted as if he’d left the Amish to join the Englisch world.
“Wunderbaar, Nate... I mean, Nathaniel.” Wanda smiled.
“Call me whichever you wish. It doesn’t matter.”
“I know your family must be pleased to have you take over the farm that has been in Zook hands for generations. It is gut to know it’ll continue in the family.”
“Ja.” He sounded as uncertain as he felt. The generations to come might be a huge problem. He reminded himself to be optimistic and focus on the here and now. Once he made the farm a success, his nephews and nieces would be eager to take it over.
His gaze locked with Esther’s. He hadn’t meant to let it happen, but he couldn’t look away. There was much more to her now than the little girl she’d been. He had a difficult time imagining her at the teacher’s desk instead of among the scholars, sending him and her brothers notes filled with plans for after school.
Esther the Pester was what they’d called her then, but he’d been eager to join in with the fun she proposed. He wondered if she were as