His Amish Sweetheart. Jo Brown Ann
should say something. Several kinder came to stand beside her, curious about what was going on. She needed to show she wasn’t that silly little girl any longer, but all that came out was, “What are you doing in Paradise Springs?”
He opened his mouth to answer. Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by a shriek from the schoolhouse.
Esther whirled and gasped when she saw two boys on the ground, fists flying. She ran to stop the fight. Finding out why Nathaniel had returned to Paradise Springs after more than a decade would have to wait. But not too long, because she was really curious why he’d come back now.
* * *
Nathaniel Zook stared after Esther as she raced across the grass, her apron flapping on her skirt. Years ago, she’d been able to outrun him and her brothers, though they were almost five years older than she was. She’d been much shorter then, and her knees, which were now properly concealed beneath her dress, had been covered with scrapes. Her bright eyes were as blue, and their steady gaze contained the same strength.
He looked past her to where two boys were rolling on the grass. Should he help? One of the boys in the fight was nearly as big as Esther was.
“Oh, Jacob Fisher! He keeps picking fights,” said a girl with a sigh.
“Or dropping books on the floor or throwing papers around.” A boy shook his head. “He wants attention. That’s what my mamm says.”
Nathaniel didn’t wait to listen to any more because when Esther bent to try to put a halt to the fight, a fist almost struck her. He crossed the yard and pushed past the gawking kinder. A blow to Esther’s middle knocked her back a couple of steps. Again he caught her and steadied her, then he grasped both boys by their suspenders and tugged them apart.
The shorter boy struggled to get away, his brown eyes snapping with fury. Flinging his fists out wildly, he almost connected with the taller boy’s chin.
Shoving them away from each other, Nathaniel said, “Enough. If you can’t honestly tell each other you’re sorry for acting foolishly, at least shake hands.”
“I’m not shaking hands with him!” The taller boy was panting, and blood dripped from the left corner of his mouth. “He’ll jump me again for no reason.”
The shorter boy puffed up like a snake about to strike. “You called me a—”
“Enough,” Nathaniel repeated as he kept a tight hold on their suspenders. “What’s been said was said. What’s been done has been done. It’s over. Let it go.”
The glowers the boys gave him warned Nathaniel that he was wasting his breath.
“Benny,” ordered Esther, “go and wash up. Jacob, wait on the porch for me. We need to talk.” She gestured toward a younger woman who’d been staring wide-eyed at the battling boys. “Neva, take the other scholars inside please.”
Astonished by how serene her voice was and how quickly the boys turned to obey after scowling at each other again, Nathaniel waited while the kinder followed Neva into the school. He knew Esther would want to get back to her job, as well. Since he’d returned to Paradise Springs, he’d heard over and over what a devoted teacher Esther Stoltzfus was. Well, his visit should be a short one because all he needed was for her to say a quick ja.
First, however, he had to ask, “Are you okay, Esther?”
“I’m fine.” She adjusted her kapp, which had come loose in the melee. Her golden-brown hair glistened through the translucent white organdy of her heart-shaped kapp. Her dress was a charming dark pink almost the same color as her cheeks. The flush nearly absorbed her freckles. There weren’t as many as the last time he’d seen her more than a decade ago.
Back then, she and her twin brothers had been his best friends. In some ways, he’d been closer to her than her brothers. Micah and Daniel were twins, and they had a special bond. He and Esther had often found themselves on one team while her brothers took the other side, whether playing ball or having races or embarking on some adventure. She hadn’t been one of those girly girls who worried about getting her clothes dirty or if her hair was mussed. She played to win, though she was younger than the rest of them. He’d never met another girl like her, a girl who was, as his daed had described her, not afraid to be one of the boys.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You got hit pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.” Her blue eyes regarded him with curiosity. “When did you return to Paradise Springs?”
“Almost a month ago. I’ve inherited my grandparents’ farm on the other side of the village.”
“I’m sorry, Nat—Nathaniel. I should have remembered that they’d passed away in the spring. You must miss them.”
“Ja,” he said, though the years that had gone by since the last time he’d seen them left them as little more than childhood memories. Except for one visit to Paradise Springs the first year after the move, his life had been in Elkhart County, Indiana.
From beyond the school he heard the rattle of equipment and smelled the unmistakable scent of greenery and disturbed earth. Next year at this time, God willing, he’d be chopping his own corn into silage to feed his animals over the winter. He couldn’t wait. At last, he had the job he’d always wanted: farmer. He wouldn’t have had the opportunity in Indiana. There it was intended, in Amish tradition, that his younger brother would inherit the family’s five acres. Nathaniel had assumed he, like his daed, would spend his life working in an Englisch factory building RVs.
Those plans had changed when word came that his Zook grandparents’ farm in Paradise Springs was now his. A dream come true. Along with the surprising menagerie his grossdawdi and his grossmammi had collected in their final years. He’d been astonished not to find dairy cows when he arrived. Instead, there were about thirty-five alpacas, one of the oddest looking animals he’d ever seen. They resembled a combination of a poodle and a llama, especially at this time of year when their wool was thickening. In addition, on the farm were two mules, a buggy horse and more chickens than he could count. He was familiar with horses, mules and chickens, but he had a lot to learn about alpacas, which was the reason he’d come to the school today.
He was determined to make the farm a success so he wouldn’t have to sell it. For the first time in far too many years, he felt alive with possibilities.
“How can I help you?” Esther asked, as if he’d spoken aloud. “Are you here to enroll a kind in school?”
Years of practice kept him from revealing how her simple question drove a shaft through his heart. She couldn’t guess how much that question hurt him, and he didn’t have time to wallow in thoughts of how, because of a childhood illness, he most likely could never be a daed. He’d never enjoy the simple act of coming to a school to arrange for his son or daughter to attend.
He was alive and well. For that he was grateful, and he needed to let the feelings of failure go. Otherwise, he was dismissing God’s gift of life as worthless. That he’d never do.
Instead he needed to concentrate on why he’d visited the school this afternoon. After asking around the area, he’d learned of only one person who was familiar with how to raise alpacas.
Esther Stoltzfus.
“No, I’m here for a different reason.” He managed a smile. “One I think you’ll find interesting.”
“I’d like to talk, Nathaniel, but—” She glanced at the older boy, the one she’d called Benny. He stood by the well beyond the schoolhouse and was washing his hands and face. Jacob sat on the porch. He was trembling in the wake of the fight and rocking his feet against the latticework. It made a dull thud each time his bare heels struck it. “I’m going to have to ask you to excuse me. Danki for pulling the boys apart.”
“The little guy doesn’t look more than about six years old.”
“Jacob is eight. He’s small for his age, but he has the heart of a lion.”