strips and set them upright in one of the boxes, he shook his head. “Not me alone. It’s one we played in Indiana. We invented it the summer after I couldn’t go sledding all winter.”
“Why? Were you sick?”
“Ja.”
“All winter?”
“You know how mamms can be. Always worrying.” He gathered the last bits of cardboard and dropped them into the other box. Brushing dirt off himself, he grimaced as he tapped his left knee. “Grass stains on my gut church clothes. Mamm wouldn’t be happy to see that.”
He looked very handsome in his black vest and trousers, which gave his dark hair a ruddy sheen. The white shirt emphasized his strong arms and shoulders. She’d noticed his shoulders when she tumbled against him at school.
“If you want,” she said when she realized she was staring. “I’ll clean them.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.” He carried the boxes to the porch. “You’ve got enough to do keeping up with your brothers.”
“One more pair of trousers won’t make any difference.” She smiled as she walked with him toward the kitchen door. “Trust me.”
“I do, and my alpacas do, too. It was amazing how you calmed them.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“I don’t know if I can convince them to trust me as they do you. It might be impossible. Though obviously not for Esther Stoltzfus, the alpaca whisperer.”
She laughed, then halted when she saw a buggy driving at top speed along the farm lane. Even from a distance, she recognized her brother Isaiah driving it. She glanced at Nathaniel, then ran to where the buggy was stopping. Only something extremely important would cause Isaiah to leave his blacksmith shop in the middle of the day.
He climbed out, his face lined with dismay. “Esther, where are the kinder?”
“Behind the house having lunch.”
“Gut.” He looked from her to Nathaniel. “There’s no way to soften this news. Titus Fisher has had a massive stroke and is on his way to the hospital.”
Esther gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.
“Are you here to get the boy?” asked Nathaniel.
“I’m not sure he should go to the hospital until Titus is stable.” Isaiah turned to her. “What do you think, Esther?”
“I think he needs to be told his onkel is sick, but nothing more now. No need to scare him. Taking him to the hospital can wait until we know more.”
“That’s what I thought, but you know him better than I do.” He sighed. “The poor kind. He’s already suffered enough. Tonight—”
“He can stay here,” Nathaniel said quietly.
“Are you sure?” her brother asked, surprised.
“I’ve got plenty of room,” Nathaniel said, “and the boy seems fascinated by my alpacas.”
Isaiah looked at her for confirmation.
She nodded, knowing it was the best solution under the circumstances.
“I’ll let Reuben know.” He sighed again. “Just in case.”
“Tell the bishop that Jacob can stay here as long as he needs to,” Nathaniel said.
“That should work out...unless his onkel dies. Then the Bureau of Children and Family Services will have to get involved.”
Nathaniel frowned, standing as resolute as one of the martyrs of old.
Before he could retort, Esther said, “Let’s deal with one problem at a time.” She prayed it wouldn’t get to that point. And if it did, there must be some plan to give Jacob the family he needed without Englisch interference. She had no idea what, but they needed to figure it out fast.
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