“Watch the kinder,” she said. “I’ll get an alpaca haltered, so we can bring it closer for them to see.”
Curious about how she was going to do that, he watched her walk toward the herd with slow, even steps. She spoke softly, nonsense words from what he could discern.
She held the branches out to either side of her. He realized she was using them like a shepherd’s crook to move the alpacas into the small shed at the rear of the pasture. He edged forward to see what she’d do once they were inside. He’d wondered what the shed with its single large pen was for. He hadn’t guessed it was to corner the alpacas to make it easier to handle them.
She lifted a halter off a peg once the alpacas were in the pen. She chose a white-and-brown one who was almost as tall as she was. Moving to the animal’s left, she gently slid the halter over its nose and behind its ears. The animal stood as docile as a well-trained dog, nodding its head when Esther checked to make sure the buckled halter was high enough on the nose that it wouldn’t prevent the animal from breathing.
Latching a rope to the halter, Esther walked the alpaca from the shed. The other animals trotted behind her, watching her. Esther stayed on the alpaca’s left side and an arm’s length away. The alpaca followed her easily, but shied as she neared the fence where the kinder stood.
One kind pushed closer to the fence. Jacob! The boy’s gaze was riveted on the alpaca. His usual anger was fading into something that wasn’t a smile, but close.
Nathaniel wondered if Esther had noticed, but couldn’t tell because her back was to him. Again she warned the scholars to be silent. Their eyes were curious but none of them stuck their fingers past the fence.
Esther looked over her shoulder at him. “You can come closer. Stay to her left side.”
“You made it look easy,” Nathaniel replied with admiration.
“Any task is easy when you know what you’re doing.” She winked at the scholars. “Like multiplication tables, ain’t so?”
The younger ones giggled.
“Be careful it doesn’t spit at you,” Nathaniel warned the kinder.
“It won’t.” Esther patted the alpaca’s head as the scholars edged back.
“Don’t be sure. When I put them out this morning, this one started spitting at the others. She hasn’t acted like that before.”
“Were the males in there, too?”
He nodded. Before he’d gone to the school, he’d spent a long hour separating the males out because he feared they’d be aggressive near the kinder.
“Then,” Esther said with a smile, “my guess is she’s going to have a cria.”
“A what?”
She laughed and nudged his shoulder with hers. “A boppli, Nathaniel.”
The ordinary motion had anything but an ordinary effect on his insides. A ripple of awareness rushed through him like a powerful train. Had she felt it, too? He couldn’t be sure because the scholars clapped their hands in delight. She was suddenly busy keeping the alpaca from pulling away in fear at the noise, but she calmed the animal.
“I’m going to need you to tell me what to do,” Nathaniel said, glad his voice sounded calmer than he felt as he struggled to regain his equilibrium.
“There’s no hurry. An alpaca is pregnant for at least eleven months, but she’ll need to be examined by the vet to try to determine how far along she is.”
As she continued to talk about the alpacas to her scholars, he sent a grateful prayer to God for Esther’s help. His chances of making the farm a success were much greater than they’d been. He wasn’t going to waste a bit of the time or the information she shared with him.
No, he assured himself as he watched her. He wasn’t going to waste a single second.
* * *
Esther walked to the farmhouse, enjoying the sunshine. The trees along the farm lane were aflame with color against the bright blue sky. Not a single cloud blemished it. Closer to the ground, mums in shades of gold, orange and dark red along the house’s foundation bobbed on a breeze that barely teased her nape.
She’d left the scholars with Nathaniel while she checked the alpacas. Though he didn’t know much about them, he’d made sure they were eating well. She’d seen no sores on their legs. They hadn’t been trying to get out of the pasture, so they must be content with what he provided.
Hearing shouts from the far side of the house, she walked in that direction. She hadn’t planned to take so long with the alpacas, but it’d been fun to be with the silly creatures again. Their fleece was exceptionally soft, and their winter coats were growing in well. By the time they were sheared in the spring, Nathaniel would have plenty of wool to sell.
She came around the house and halted. On the sloping yard, Nathaniel was surrounded by the scholars. Jay, the oldest, was helping keep the kinder in a line. What were they doing?
Curious, she walked closer. She was amazed to see cardboard boxes torn apart and placed end to end on the grass. Two boxes were intact. As she watched, Nathaniel picked up a little girl and set her in one box. She giggled and gripped the front of it.
“All set?” he asked.
“Ja!” the kind shouted.
Nathaniel glanced at Jay and gave the box a slight shove. It sailed down the cardboard “slide” like a toboggan on snow. He kept pace with it on one side while Jay did on the other. They caught the box at the end of the slide before it could tip over and spill the kind out.
Picking her up again, Nathaniel swung her around. Giggling, she ran up the hill as a bigger boy jumped into the other box. His legs hung out the front, but he pushed with his hands to send himself down the slide. Nathaniel swung the other box out of the way just in time.
Everyone laughed and motioned for the boxes to be brought back for the next ride. As the older boy climbed out, Esther saw it was Benny. He beamed as he gathered the boxes to carry them to the top. Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder and grinned.
She went to stand by the porch where she could watch the kinder play. She couldn’t take her eyes off Nathaniel. He looked as happy as he had when they were kinder themselves. He clearly loved being with the youngsters. He’d be a wunderbaar daed. Seeing him with her scholars, she could imagine him acting like her own daed.
Her most precious memories of Daed were when he’d come into the house at midday and pick her up. They’d bounce around the kitchen table singing a silly song until Mamm pretended to be irritated about how they were in the way. Then they’d laugh together, and Daed would set her in her chair before chasing her brothers around the living room. If he caught them, he’d tickle them until they squealed or Mamm called everyone to the table. As they bent their heads in silent grace, their shared joy had been like a glow around them.
Watching Nathaniel with the kinder, she wanted that for him. Too bad she and he were just friends. Otherwise—
Where had that thought come from? He was her buddy, her partner in crime, her competitor to see who could run the fastest or climb the highest. She had told him she’d marry him when they were little kids, something that made her blush when she thought of how outrageously she’d acted, but they weren’t kinder any longer.
When Nathaniel called a halt to the game, saying it was time for lunch, the youngsters tried not to show their disappointment. They cheered when he said he had fresh cider waiting for them on a picnic table by the kitchen door.
They raced past Esther to get their lunch boxes. She smiled as she went to help Nathaniel collect the pieces of cardboard.
“Quite a