His Amish Sweetheart. Jo Brown Ann

His Amish Sweetheart - Jo Brown Ann


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what he’d done wrong...if he were caught.

      She squatted in front of him, so her eyes were even with his. Aware of Nathaniel behind her, she said quietly, “Nobody has said anything about a glass. This has nothing to do with the other kinder.”

      “Then what?” He was growing more wary by the second.

      “I wanted to let you know your onkel isn’t feeling well, so he went to see some doktors who will try to help him.”

      “Is it his heart?” Jacob’s hands loosened, and he folded his arms over his narrow chest. Was he trying to protect himself?

      When she glanced at Nathaniel, he looked as shocked as she felt at the forthright question. Clearly the boy was aware of his onkel’s deteriorating health. Jacob Fisher was a smart kind. She mustn’t forget that, as the other scholars did far too often, underestimating his intelligence as well as how brittle his patience was.

      “Ja,” she answered. “The doktors want to observe him. That means—”

      “They want to watch what his heart does so they can find out why it’s giving him trouble.” He gave a careless shrug, but he couldn’t hide the fear burning in his eyes. “Onkel Titus explained to me the last time he went to the clinic.”

      She wanted to let him know it was okay to show his distress, but she wouldn’t push. Ja, he was scared, but Titus had prepared the boy. She reminded herself that Jacob didn’t know the full extent of what had happened. For now, it would be better not to frighten him further. She didn’t want to think of what would happen if his onkel didn’t recover. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears prickling her eyes.

      And that would scare Jacob more.

      * * *

      Nathaniel saw Esther struggling to hold on to her composure. He should have urged her to let him talk to Jacob alone. Unlike him, she knew Titus Fisher, and she must be distressed by the old man’s stroke.

      He drew her to her feet. He tried to ignore the soft buzz where his palms were spread across her arms. Releasing her because he needed to focus on the boy, he was amazed when the sensation still coursed along his hands.

      Trying to ignore it, he said, “Jacob, under the circumstances, I think Esther would agree with me when I say you don’t need to go back to school today.”

      “I don’t?” Glee brightened his face for a moment, then it vanished. “Then I’ll have to go to my onkel’s house by myself.”

      Nathaniel tried not to imagine what the boy was thinking. The idea of returning to an empty house where he’d be more alone than ever must be horrifying to Jacob. Knowing he must pick his words with care, he said, “I thought you might want to stay here.”

      “With the alpacas?” Jacob’s eyes filled with anticipation.

      Nathaniel struggled to keep his smile in place as he wondered if that expression would have been visible on Jacob’s face more often if he hadn’t watched his parents die and been sent to live with an elderly onkel. Titus Fisher had provided him with a gut home, or as gut as he could. The old man had protected his great-nephew from the realities of his failing health by telling him enough to make this moment easier for the boy.

      What would Jacob—or Esther—say if he revealed how his own childhood had been filled with doktors and fear? His mamm had overreacted any time he got a cold, and his daed had withdrawn. If it hadn’t been for their Englisch neighbor, Reggie O’Donnell, who’d welcomed Nathaniel at his greenhouses whenever he needed an escape, there would have been no break from the drama at home. The retired engineer had let Nathaniel assist and never made him talk or wash his hands endlessly or avoid playing with other kinder because he might get some germ that would bring on another bout of what they called “the scourge.”

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