Hannah's Courtship. Emma Miller

      Chapter Four

      Albert raised his gaze to meet Hannah’s. He could feel his face growing warm. Being around Hannah Yoder always did that to him. Made him tongue-tied, too.

      It wasn’t just that Hannah was attractive. She was that and more. Maybe attractive didn’t do her justice. Hannah was strikingly handsome, with large brown eyes, a generous mouth and a shapely nose with just a smattering of freckles. Hers wasn’t a face a man was likely to forget, no matter his age.

      Hannah’s creamy skin was as smooth as a baby’s, and her hair, what he could see of it, peeking out around her kapp, was thick and curly, a soft reddish-brown. She was tall, but not too tall, sturdy, but still graceful. He’d never seen her when she wasn’t neat and tidy.

      It wasn’t just her looks that he liked. Hannah was the sort of woman you expected could take charge if she needed to. Something about her was calming, which didn’t make much sense, considering that she always put him off his stride when she was near him. But one thing was certain, she didn’t look or act old enough to have grandbabies.

      Not that he thought of her as anything but a friend. Their relationship was solidly defined by the rules of what it meant to be Amish and Mennonite. And the fact that they could both acknowledge their friendship and be easy with one another was a tribute to Hannah’s respected status among both communities. And, he hoped, to his own.

      “Albert?”

      Hannah’s voice slid through his thoughts like warm maple syrup. She had a way of pronouncing his name that gave it a German lilt, but seemed perfectly natural. He blinked. “Yes, Hannah?”

      “Did you say alpacas?” Her eyes twinkled, as though she’d heard something amusing but was too kind to laugh at him.

      “Ya,” he said, falling into the Deitsch speech pattern that his family had often used when he was a youngster on the farm. “You’ve heard of alpacas, haven’t you?”

      She chuckled. “I have. My friend in Wisconsin raises them. She cards the fleece after she shears it, spins it, and sells the fiber to English women who knit garments out of it. It’s much warmer than sheep’s wool, too warm for Delaware use. But it’s very soft and she gets a good price for it.”

      “Well,” He hesitated, not wanting her to think that he hadn’t seriously considered what he was about to propose. “John thinks that I have too much time on my hands,” he said. “Since my father...” He took a breath and started again, wondering if coming to Hannah with this scheme had been a big mistake. “The practice keeps me pretty busy, and of course, I’m always welcome at Grace and John’s, but...”

      She was just looking at him in that patient way of hers, and he finished in a rush. “John suggested, and I thought it was a good idea, for me to take up a hobby.”

      She nodded. “I can see where that would make sense, Albert.”

      Again, he noticed her unique way of saying his name. Hannah’s English was flawless, but some words came out with just a hint of German accent.

      “And you’ve been thinking about raising alpacas? Is that what you’re saying?” She motioned toward the house. “I’ve got iced tea chilling in the refrigerator. It’s warm this afternoon, and I’m sure you must be thirsty. Would you like some?”

      “I would,” he answered, getting out of the truck. “That’s kind of you. If it’s no trouble.”

      “How much trouble could pouring a glass of tea be?” Hannah led the way toward a picnic table standing in the shade of a tree beside the house. “Have a seat, Albert.” He did, and she went into the house through the back door and returned with two glasses of iced tea.

      He nodded his thanks, accepted the glass and took a sip of the tea. It was delicious, not too sweet. “Great. Is that mint I taste?”

      Hannah’s eyes twinkled. “That’s Susanna’s doing. It does give the tea a refreshing bite, doesn’t it?” Hannah sat down across the table from him. He nodded, and then drew the conversation back to his reason for stopping by today. “So I was saying, about the alpacas. As it happens, an acquaintance of mine, another vet over in Talbot County—that’s in Maryland—”

      Hannah chuckled. “I know where Talbot County is, Albert. Jonas and I bought cows from a farmer there regularly.”

      “That’s right, I remember. Jonas told me that. Anyway, one of this vet’s clients, an older man, has a herd of alpacas. Mr. Gephart has had some health problems and he needs to find homes for most of his stock. He’s willing to sell me some of his hembras—that’s what they call the females—at an excellent price if I promise to keep them together. Mr. Gephart has become very fond of them, and he’s raised them from crias.”

      “Crias are the babies,” Hannah said. “I remember my Wisconsin friend mentioning that. She said that they are really cute.”

      He leaned forward, pleased that Hannah seemed interested in hearing about the alpacas. “One of the females has a cria. It’s a male, and he’s all black. The mother is a rose-gray color, and her name is Estrella. She’s gentle and her fleece is especially fine, but she had some problems when the baby was born. She won’t be able to have any more little ones, but she’s a dominant female, and she’d make an excellent leader for the herd. They live fifteen to twenty years, so she’d produce fleece for a long time. I’m thinking I won’t get a male of my own, at least to start with.”

      “It sounds as if you’ve made up your mind to start your own herd,” she said.

      “Pretty much, but here’s the thing.” He took another swallow of the tea. He’d rehearsed what he would say to Hannah, how he would present his proposal, but his thoughts were all a jumble in his head now. “You know I have that property on Briar Corner Road?” he started slowly. “I’ve got about seventy acres there. Anyway, that would be a good place for the alpacas if I had fencing and a decent barn, but the place is sort of isolated. There would be no one to keep an eye on them.”

      “I see your point,” she agreed. “Alpacas are a big investment, and without someone living there, you couldn’t be sure that your animals would be safe.”

      “They’re just like any other livestock. They’re best kept close. So, what I was wondering is...” He took another drink of tea. “You have this empty second barn and a lot of outbuildings, and you’ve got first-class fencing. I was hoping that you might consider boarding my alpacas. They wouldn’t need much room, five acres at most. And I wouldn’t expect you to do the feeding and care. I could come by morning and evening and—”

      “Albert.” Hannah tilted her head and fixed him with her schoolteacher stare.

      “I’m sure we could agree on a fair monthly price. I’d feel so much better about starting the venture if my animals were here.” Now that he was on a roll, he just kept going. “Your little stable would make a perfect—”

      “Please, stop.” She raised a hand, palm up.

      He broke off in midsentence, and his expression must have shown his disappointment because she hurried to go on.

      “I’m not saying no. What I’m saying is...” She shrugged. “How many times have we had you or John here in the past year to help one of our animals?”

      “Not counting the pony?” He paused to consider. “Six, seven times, maybe.”

      “A lot more than that.” She smiled at him. “You’ve been