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“Ya. The pasture. I can do it by myself.”
“Be home by seven. Ask one of the twins to walk back with you.”
“By myself, Mam.” Susanna threw her a look so much like her sister Johanna’s that Hannah smiled.
“All right. By yourself, but be careful, Susanna. No talking to strangers.”
Susanna giggled and folded her arms in a mirror image of Hannah. “No strangers in the pasture.”
Hannah sighed. “No, I suppose there aren’t. But be careful, just the same.” Feeling a little out of sorts with herself, Hannah left the library and went back into the house. There, she looked around for something out of place or something that needed doing, but all seemed in order.
The house echoed with emptiness. Chores done, floors scrubbed, dishes washed and put away. Susanna had been busy today, so busy that she’d left nothing for Hannah to do. And with all her children active in their own families, Hannah knew she should have been glad for the peace and quiet. No grandchildren running through the house, no slamming doors, no tracking mud through the kitchen, no supper to cook.
Of course, she would need some sort of supper for herself. Maybe she’d start something that she, Susanna, Rebecca and Irwin could have again tomorrow. Hannah wanted to begin setting out early vegetable plants in the garden, and she wouldn’t have time to prepare a big noon meal. She went to the refrigerator, but when she opened it, there was a pot of chicken and dumplings as well as a bowl of coleslaw. A note was propped in front. “Enjoy! Rice pudding on bottom shelf. Love, Johanna.”
Hannah sighed. Why did Johanna’s thoughtful deed add to her sense of restlessness? Maybe she should walk over to Ruth’s and see if she needed help with the twins. Or, perhaps she should check on the chickens to see if Susanna had remembered to gather the eggs. Taking a basket from a peg on the wall, Hannah went back into the yard.
She was halfway to the chicken house when she heard the sound of a motor vehicle. As she watched, a familiar truck came up the lane and into the yard. Albert pulled to a stop, rolled down the window and smiled.
“Afternoon, Hannah.”
“Afternoon, Albert.” She walked over to his truck, egg basket on her arm.
“Wondered how the pony was, if you noticed any swelling in his legs or any bruising?”
She shook her head. “Ne. The pony is fine, thanks be.”
“And Susanna? She’s no worse for the tumble?” He tugged at his ball cap and leaned out the window.
“Ne, Susanna’s good.” She chuckled. “Actually, she’s not behaving like herself. She’s always been the easiest of my children, but recently...” She spread her hands. “I know you don’t have children, but...”
“No, I don’t, but I think I should have. Sometimes, Hannah, I wonder if...”
“Ya?”
He removed his cap and squeezed the brim between his hands, then put it back on his head and tugged it tight. “You sure you don’t want me to check that pony out?”
“The pony’s fine.” First Susanna and now Albert. This was turning into the strangest afternoon, Hannah mused. She liked the man, found his company interesting and felt at ease with him, but she couldn’t imagine why he was acting so oddly.
It seemed almost as if Albert wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was like a father to Grace’s husband. Was there some trouble with Grace’s new family that she didn’t know about? Hannah’s eyes narrowed. And why was Albert so worried about Susanna? Was there more about Susanna and David than what he’d told her?
“If you’ve something to tell me,” she said. “It’s best you just say it instead of beating around the bush.”
Albert’s earnest face flushed.
Bingo, she thought. But she didn’t urge him further. If there was one thing that she’d learned from being a teacher, it was that silence often brought more confessions than demands did.
“There is something I wanted to ask you.”
“Ya, Albert. What is it?”
He leaned out the window. “Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about...”
It was all she could do to keep from tapping her foot impatiently. “Yes, Albert?”
“Alpacas,” he said.
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 more than fair with billing us, but still having the proper veterinary care for animals is a big part of our expense.” She settled back on the bench and folded her arms. “Why don’t we strike a bargain? I’ll provide housing and grazing for your alpacas, and you do my veterinary care free of charge for six months? Then we can decide if we want to continue with the arrangement as it is, or make changes.”
Relief surged through him. After thinking on the whole idea for a few days, he was really keen on it. It excited him in a way nothing had in a good long while. Mr. Gephart wanted to downsize his herd as soon as possible, and a delay might mean Albert would lose the opportunity. “You’ll do it? Without being paid? That hardly seems fair to you—”
She chuckled. “I think I’m in a better place to decide what’s fair to me. I like the idea of having animals in those empty stalls. And I have a lot of livestock that need vet care: the pigs, cows, horses. Not to mention the cats people keep dropping off here. Having them neutered or spayed is a drain on my pocketbook, but if I don’t have it done, I’d end up buried in hundreds of cats.”
He nodded. “I can see your point.” Straightening his shoulders, he took another drink of the tea. “I’m thinking of buying seven alpacas to start. Three of the hembras are pregnant, and the other females are nearly old enough to—” The word breed stuck in his throat and he felt his throat clench.
“It’s all right, Albert,” Hannah assured him with a sweet, mischievous smile. “I’m a farmer. I understand the process. Unless you’re raising the alpacas just as a hobby, you’ll want young ones to add to your herd and to sell to help cover expenses.”
“Exactly.” He drained the last of his tea. “Is it all right if I walk back and take a look at the stable, to see what I’d need to do to bring the animals home?”
“Of course. I’ll come with you.” Hannah rose and they walked side by side across the yard toward the second, smaller barn and the outbuildings. “There’s a small attached pound, a loafing shed and a seven-acre pasture with good grazing, beyond that. As you can see, this field is far back, away from the road.”
“It looks perfect.”
“I’m fortunate. My son-in-law Charley believes in good fences. I don’t know what I’d do without him doing the heavy work on the farm.”
“Miriam picked a good husband,” Albert agreed. Neither of them mentioned that his nephew, John, had seriously courted Hannah’s daughter Miriam, before she’d accepted Charley’s offer of marriage. John had been hurt and disappointed at losing Miriam, but that was before he’d met Grace. Now both couples were happily married, and Hannah had the satisfaction of knowing that her Miriam would remain securely in the Amish faith.
“There’s no reason for you to stop by every morning,” Hannah said as she unlatched the door to the stable. “Our windmill pumps fresh water into the stable and to the trough in the loafing shed. One of us can easily do the first feeding when we tend the other animals. I know that mornings are your busiest time of the day.”
“They are,” he agreed. “But I wouldn’t want to put you out. You’re doing me a big favor by letting me keep them here.”
“There’ll be no talk of favors,” she said, smiling so hard that a dimple appeared on her cheek. “We’re just old friends, helping each other out.”
Hannah showed him the empty small barn with the spacious box stalls, the feed storage area and the door that led into the pound or corral, as horse people liked to refer to it. The stable was as clean as he’d expected. Alpacas were herd animals so they wouldn’t really need individual stalls, but he was glad to see that there were two separate wooden enclosed areas where an injured animal or an expectant female could be cared for. A narrow staircase against one wall led to a half loft overhead.
She pushed open the wide back door. It was built in the old Dutch manner, split, so that the top half could be swung open with the bottom remaining fastened. “You can see what the fence is like from here,” she explained.
As he’d expected, Hannah’s wooden posts were solid, the stock wire was tight, and the open loafing shed dry and clean. He couldn’t have designed anything better for the alpacas if he’d had the time to build out at his farm. Hannah’s place was also closer and more convenient to get to. He was sure this would work out fine. “I’ll not be a bother to you,” he promised.
“I know you won’t. But I warn you, you may have to chase off my grandchildren. I think your alpacas are going to be a big hit with them.”
“The animals are gentle and sweet-natured,” he assured her. “I think that you’ll be a fan, too.”
As they were leaving the barn, Albert heard the rattle of buggy wheels on the driveway and saw a horse pulling a two-wheel cart coming up the driveway. An Amish woman was driving the open carriage.
Hannah raised her hand to shade her eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Why, that looks like Aunt Jezzy!” she exclaimed. “What a nice surprise.”
“I’ll be getting back to the office,” Albert said. He was a little disappointed. He’d been hoping to talk with Hannah a little longer. He had a lot of questions to ask, like if Hannah had straw for bedding to sell, or if she thought he’d be better off ordering woodchips for the stalls. “I don’t want to interfere with your company.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Hannah said. “Wait right here for a moment until I see if Aunt Jezzy has come on an errand or has time to visit. Don’t move an inch, Albert.” She hurried over to meet the older woman who’d, until not long ago, had been part of her household. Aunt Jezzy had recently married and lived not far from Byler’s Store. Today, she didn’t have her husband with her; she was alone in the cart.
Hannah greeted her aunt and the two exchanged hugs. They were talking, but they were too far away for Albert to make out what they were saying. Then Hannah turned back and motioned to him. “Aunt Jezzy’s come to spend the night with me,” she called. “And we’d love it if you’d stay and share supper with us. I’ve got chicken and dumplings.”
Albert’s first thought was to refuse. He glanced at his watch. They closed the clinic early on Fridays, and he hadn’t had any emergency calls. But surely Hannah was just being polite; she didn’t really want him to stay. He couldn’t remember anything particular in the refrigerator, but he could always stop and pick up a frozen pizza on the way back to his apartment. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s kind of you, but I—”
“Homemade coleslaw, some of Anna’s yeast rolls and rice pudding with raisins for dessert,” Hannah tempted. “Come on, Albert. I know you love chicken and dumplings.”
He did. Next to chicken and dumplings, another frozen pizza sounded about as good as a Frisbee with a little ketchup drizzled on it. “You’re sure I won’t be a bother?” He walked toward them. “I really should...”
“Accept our invitation,” Hannah urged. “I know Aunt Jezzy would love to hear about your alpacas.”
Albert considered the situation. Jezzy’s visit was his good luck. As accepting as the Amish were of him, they had their rules. One was that he couldn’t be in a house alone with a woman or a girl of any age. He hadn’t seen Susanna or Rebecca around, but having Hannah’s aunt present made it perfectly acceptable for him to join them for the evening meal.
“All right,” he said, giving in graciously. “I never could pass up a home-cooked meal that I didn’t cook.” He chuckled. “And I’d walk a mile in bare feet for homemade rice pudding.”
* * *
Hannah smiled as Albert finished off a second helping of chicken and dumplings. It was always good to have company, and having Aunt Jezzy come by when she did was a delight. It was nice to see a man eat heartily at her table. Hannah guessed that Albert made do for himself with fast food and sandwiches more than he should. At least that’s what Grace had shared when she was visiting a few days earlier.
John and I worry about Uncle Albert, Grace had said. Since John’s grandfather passed away, Uncle Albert’s all alone in that apartment over the office. He never was much of a cook, according to John, and we’re concerned for his health. Sometimes, John says he makes do with bologna-and-cheese sandwiches or just peanut butter and crackers for supper. And he starts work with coffee and a donut.
Albert’s a man who enjoys plain country cooking when it’s put in front of him, Hannah thought. She’d believed that Grace’s husband, John, had the biggest appetite she’d seen on a normal-size man, but now she knew where John had gotten it. Albert was so polite that he was almost shy. He had to be coaxed to take a decent portion, then seconds, but it was clear he savored every bite. Even Aunt Jezzy took pleasure in watching him enjoy his food.
Aunt Jezzy’s husband had gone to visit a dying cousin in Lancaster. She never liked being alone in a house, so she’d hitched up the buggy and come for an overnight visit. Naturally, since neither of them had a telephone in the house, there was no way Aunt Jezzy could let her know she was coming, but she’d been certain of her welcome here.
This afternoon Hannah had been feeling lonely and out of sorts. Then Albert had showed up with his plan for the alpacas, brightening her day. There was no way she could have invited Albert to share her evening meal without anyone else present. It simply wouldn’t have been proper. A good Amish woman did not entertain a man without a chaperone.
Then here was Aunt Jezzy, a gift from God, as it were, making it possible for Hannah to invite them both to share the food that her thoughtful daughter had left for her. It just went to prove that the Lord’s mercy was unending. She had been feeling sorry for herself, wallowing in self-pity because she had to eat alone, and He had wiped away her gloom in an instant with an unexpected gift of sunshine.
Hannah glanced across the table with a smile. She could see that Albert was enjoying himself as much as she was. With a little urging, he began to explain his plan for raising alpacas; her aunt was fascinated. Aunt Jezzy had always loved animals. Actually, Hannah couldn’t think of anything or anyone her aunt-by-marriage didn’t like.
