The Amish Christmas Gift

by Laura V. Hilton

  Elsie admired his bravery. But at the same time, it hadn’t been a step she’d planned to take. At least not until Sam approached her and asked her to come to help him and his two-year-old son, Sammy. He promised to help her obtain a business certificate if she did. He’d also reminded her she’d probably never get the job she wanted in their Amish community.

  He was right.

  And she’d agreed. With no job and no boyfriend, it seemed like a bright hope for a promising future.

  But they weren’t going yet. Sam liked all his ducks in a row. Elsie had no ducks and no neat rows. She had squirrels and they were everywhere.

  And Daed wasn’t looking at her with the same worried expression he looked at Sam with. Either he didn’t care whether she left the Amish or not, or she and Sam were doing a fantastic job keeping it quiet that she was going to jump the fence, too.

  She preferred to believe they didn’t know.

  She returned to the kitchen and reclaimed her seat.

  Unless that was what the index card was about. She reached for it. Flipped it over. And smiled.

  On the other hand, Daed had been leaving Bible verses everywhere. Like this one. Hebrews 11:1: Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. She stared at it. Read it over a few times. Drew a border of red hearts around the edge of the card. Shaded them in.

  And that brought her back to her current dilemma: Was Levi’s job offer a heartbreaker or a happily ever after? Or was that a directive to go, help Sam achieve what he hoped for…and then pursue a business degree for herself?

  There was only one way to find out.

  But there was the potential for so much to go wrong that it scared her.

  She took another sip of the rapidly cooling peppermint tea.

  Wasn’t there a verse in the Bible about Gott directing paths?

  Jah, there was. She was sure of it. She closed her eyes. Think. Daed had written it on another index card on Sunday. He gave each of his children a verse to memorize every week.

  And then it came to her. Proverbs 3:5–6: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

  Elsie bowed her head. Lord, what should I do? Please lead me in the direction I should go.

  Levi had come looking for her. Something he’d never done.

  It had to be a Gott thing. Had to be.

  On the other hand, Sam had asked her to help…but then that wasn’t uncommon.

  But Levi…

  She closed the notebook, slid the index card under the cover, and left it on the table while she finished the tea, pulled her shoes on and her coat, then went out to feed the chickens. It was early, way early, but she was too excited to sleep.

  She’d be working for Levi Wyse.

  And prematurely thinking she could become his bride. Faith is the substance of things hoped for…

  If everything worked out right.

  * * *

  Levi hid in his loft office until long after Abigail went to bed that night, not wanting to see her knowing smirk and answer her questions about whether he and Elsie were a couple or not. They were not. Nor would they ever be, despite his inability to control himself around her. Avoiding her worked ever so much better. He’d need to be diligent in putting it into practice.

  He finally fell into a restless sleep and overslept, waking with a headache.

  Abigail sang a chorus that Mamm used to sing while she sorted laundry, so Levi took advantage of her preoccupation to go out to the barn to care for his horse. He would have to face his sister eventually, but maybe he’d have figured out what to say by then. If he tarried long enough.

  The cold air sucked the breath from his lungs with a whoosh, brought tears to his eyes, and burned his nostrils. Maybe he’d be fortunate and Elsie would decide it was too cold to venture out.

  But no. That would go against her determined nature. And her “we need to talk” had sounded pretty determined.

  Mental note: Avoid Elsie at all costs.

  For today, his only hope was that job he’d started yesterday with the inept homeowner. And if he were going, he needed to grab a quick breakfast and hit the road. With that in mind, he checked the time. Seven forty-five. Probably not too early to call the guy who’d dumped sewage all over Levi to find out if he contacted a plumber yet.

  Better yet, maybe the plumber had made an emergency evening call to fix the broken pipe. Best case would be if the toxic waste cleaners had come and were already finished sanitizing the mess.

  Levi sighed. Honestly, probably nothing had changed, but he’d make the call anyway.

  He pressed in the numbers. “Mr. Smythe, this is Levi Wyse with Wyse Construction. Were you able to reach a plumber—”

  “No, not yet, but you need to be aware that I talked to my neighbor and I will be contacting my lawyer and suing you for malpractice.”

  Malpractice? Levi’s breath stalled for a moment. Shock waves worked through him. The guy had done it to himself. How could he be so dishonest?

  But hold on a moment. Levi was almost positive malpractice was medical. And if there was such a thing as construction malpractice, Levi had proof the owner had done it himself. If his part-time apprentice would testify on Levi’s behalf. And since Benji was Amish and trying to learn a trade…Jah, Levi was covered.

  He cleared his throat. “Mr. Smythe, I have a witness that you broke the pipe yourself. If you sue me on false charges, no Amish construction business will ever work for you again,” Levi stated calmly.

  “Well, now, I didn’t mean…Of course, I wouldn’t,” the guy said, backtracking in a hurry.

  But he still needed to hire a plumber.

  And clean up the mess.

  Levi would be working at home today.

  He called Benji and left a message saying he wouldn’t be needed, then called Mark and left another message saying he’d love to make two circus trains, but…

  Mark picked up his phone on the but. “You can’t say no. I already promised the customer you’d deliver.”

  Levi pressed two fingers of his free hand against the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t going according to script. “But…”

  “Ah, you know you need the money for that sister of yours,” Mark said.

  True, but…

  “How about I just tell him you’ll try?”

  That was pretty much what Levi had planned to say. “No promises, no commitment, but I’ll try.”

  “Great! I’ll tell the customer. He wants a December twenty-fourth delivery date, but the store will close early so you’ll need to have them here by noon…” Mark continued chattering.

  Levi’s head pounded. He had a bad feeling about this. Like he’d just been taken advantage of.

  Come right down to it, he had been tricked into following the money.

  Lord Gott, help this to be provision, not a disaster.

  His stomach lurched as he ended the call, but then his belly rumbled, so he hurried through the morning chores. Heavy, gray clouds hung in the sky to the west. The approaching storm? He’d heard in town yesterday that the system had stalled in the Dakotas and would be delayed, but it was still predicted.

  He found Abigail in the kitchen slicing a banana. The room was warm and smelled delicious, like oatmeal cookies.

  She looked up. “I made baked oatmeal.” Her voice held a measure of firmness that meant he was in trouble.

  And since baked oatmeal was his favorite…He tensed, wondering what she had planned. Discussing the kiss? Not happening. Or talking about the way he fled last night, leaving her alone during her weakest hours? He deserved to be scolded for that. “Sounds good,” he said, trying to sound upbeat. “I need to wash up. I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded. “And then we need to talk.” She gave him a pointed look.

  Jah, he was in trouble. His head hurt worse. He tried not to move it. “I’m sorry, Abigail.”

  S
he studied him. “For what?”

  For what? This was worse than he’d thought. He pulled in a deep, calming breath. “We’ll talk when I return.” He tried to keep his voice even.

  Asking what he did wrong would only put Abigail on the defensive, so he’d need to put some thought into this.

  He plodded to the bathroom, trying to think of what all he was sorry for. He was sorry for speaking out of turn and almost letting their elf help get away. Sorry for running last night and not helping her. And sorry for not following up on the groceries so many times…

  Maybe he could distract her with a focus on his relationship mistakes where she was concerned and lead her away from their peppermint-scented helper.

  He swallowed a headache pill and then scrubbed his arms, hands, and face before he made his way back to the kitchen.

  Abigail had pulled the square baking dish from the oven and dished out three servings of the delicious-smelling…

  Wait. His breath hitched. Elsie was here so early? “Three?”

  “Four.” Abigail motioned toward the window, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she reached for a fourth plate.

  Odd. Levi turned to jerk open the door. Elsie and her brother Noah climbed out of the buggy.

  Levi tried to avoid focusing on Elsie. Instead, he focused on her brother. “Noah?” Was he there because he witnessed the kiss? Chaperoning? Or worse, to find out what Levi’s intentions were regarding Elsie?

  This was going from bad to worse. At least his scolding from Abigail had been delayed. But he’d rather face his sister’s wrath than Elsie after their kiss.

  Levi’s stomach knotted, and for about three seconds, he was tempted to grab his outerwear—again—and sneak out the side door to hide in the barn. But that would be the coward’s way out and he had already played the coward three times yesterday. Enough was enough. He was done running from his problems and needed to face them head-on even though it terrified him.

  Jah, it terrified him.

  Gott, if you hear me, help me to think on my feet, even though I have no idea how the conversation will go. Please?

  “Good morning,” Elsie said as she climbed the porch steps. Her smile was too bright, as if she was nervous.

  He gulped and stepped backward as Elsie passed him with a bulging plastic grocery bag and a whiff of peppermint. No candy in sight. Was she wearing the stuff?

  “Morning.” Noah followed her in. “Hey, Abby.”

  Abby? Abigail had been known by her full name ever since she was born, and there were four girls with the same name born at the same time in their district. Noah should know that. Levi opened his mouth to say so, but Abigail giggled. Levi gawked. His sister had a crush on Elsie’s brother? Their relationship was as doomed as his and Elsie’s but for different reasons.

  But that might explain why she pushed so hard for Elsie to work for them. It hadn’t been about him after all, but about her and Noah.

  And maybe that had been why Abigail wanted to talk to him this morning…no. The pointed look and the tone of her voice indicated he’d been in trouble.

  Women were so confusing.

  “Morning,” Levi mumbled as he stumbled to a chair and sat. He rubbed his temples with his thumbs, then fixed his gaze on sweet, beautiful Elsie. She’d hung her coat and bonnet up and was carrying two plates over to the table for Abigail.

  Levi’s palms sweated and he swiped them against his pants. His mouth dried. Oh, what she did to him! He fought to get his reactions under control. “What brings you by so early?” he asked, then grimaced. That sounded rude.

  “My horse is lame and I needed to borrow Elsie’s to get to work,” Noah said. “I’ll pick her up after five on the way home. Daed is going to try to get my horse to the farrier today.”

  “So you can’t stay?” Abigail sounded disappointed.

  “Sorry. I already ate breakfast, too, but this smells delicious. If you don’t mind, I’ll take it for my lunch.”

  “But it’ll be cold,” Abigail objected.

  Noah winked—winked!—at Levi’s sister. “As the last verse of a child’s nursery rhyme goes, ‘I like it hot; I like it cold.’”

  Abigail’s cheeks flamed redder. But she nodded and went to get an empty plastic container that they used to store leftovers.

  Levi frowned and glanced down at his fisted hands. He never took Noah Miller as a flirt, and he didn’t appreciate him leading his sister on. Not one bit. But he also didn’t want to crush Abigail’s hopes and dreams.

  His throat clogged. Maybe he was doing the same with Elsie, kissing her the way he did, hiring her, and saying some of the things he had. She must be feeling false hope, too.

  Noah clapped Levi on the shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you. Take care of our sisters. Yours and mine.”

  Levi looked up.

  Noah held the plastic dish in one hand. His grin was easy, friendly—as if he believed Levi’s intentions toward Elsie were pure and marriage minded. Then he hurried out the door.

  Leaving Levi alone with two starry-eyed females and a man destined to destroy their dreams.

  * * *

  Elsie knew better than to entertain any false hopes. Especially when Levi refused to even look at her, and the few words he’d spoken—“Let’s pray” and “Amen”—were gruffly mumbled. But that would change, especially when he came home from work tonight to find his office in better condition and the house smelling of Christmas cookies, fudge, and other goodies.

  And if Abigail was agreeable, Elsie would help her plan a youth frolic with a taffy pull. Judging by her reaction to Noah’s friendly visit, it would do her good to be around young people. Levi, too. He never attended frolics, and he didn’t take Abigail to the meetinghouse on church Sundays for some reason. Maybe it was too difficult or she refused to go. Elsie would try to find out the reason and attempt to fix it. They were turning into recluses.

  She glanced at him as she sipped a cup of coffee. She’d eaten breakfast already, too, so she left her untouched plate on the counter with a quiet explanation for Abigail.

  Levi kept his head averted, his gaze down, and ate silently and quickly. He closed his eyes again for a final prayer, then stood. He focused on Abigail. “I’ll be working in the shop today. I’ll be in for lunch.”

  Elsie swallowed, tempted to direct his gaze toward her like she had the night before. She wanted some sort of acknowledgment from him, but it seemed as if she was destined for a whole lot of nothing. At least they’d see each other occasionally.

  Maybe.

  Make that definitely. If he was working in his shop, she could find an excuse to go out there. Or maybe not. That’d be too much like chasing him, and one thing she learned from the youth leaders was that men liked to be the pursuers, not the prey.

  With that in mind, she needed to stick to her original plan and kill—er, make that win—him with kindness.

  Levi nodded her way but kept his gaze averted, grabbed his outerwear, shoved the items on, and went out the door. A moment later, he stuck his head back in. “It’s snowing, Abigail.” Then he shut the door and strode past the window on his way out to the barn.

  Abigail rolled over to the window.

  Elsie followed. “When was that winter storm warning for?” She peered out the window at the gently floating flakes. Tiny ones. This wasn’t accumulating snow.

  “I don’t know, but isn’t it pretty? I love snow. Daed always used to make a row of snow people. One for each member of the family.” Abigail’s voice broke and she sniffled.

  Elsie remembered the row of snowmen. “But last year there was…one.” Oh. Why hadn’t Levi built two? Or more, in memory of his family?

  Abigail swiped at her eyes. “He was bawling by the time he finished one.”

  Elsie sucked in a breath. That explained so much.

  “The tears froze on his face,” Abigail said. “I’m not even going to ask this year.”

  Elsie swallowed the sudden lump clogging her throat and bent to wrap her arms
around Abigail’s shoulders. The teenager reached up and clung to her. Elsie hugged her, but she had no words. Her eyes burned.

  And shame filled her. Instead of plotting how she could win Levi’s heart back, she would focus on how she could help the two remaining Wyses heal.

  The trouble was she didn’t have the foggiest idea where or how to begin.

  Chapter 10

  Levi stood in the doorway of his cold, dark workshop and slumped. He didn’t know where to even start, which was beyond pathetic, because ordinarily he’d have no problem moving on to the next step, the next thing.

  It seemed that having an impossible deadline stalled his creativity.

  Either that or it was the darkness that permeated his soul. His life. His vision.

  Would he be excommunicated if he went to the bishop and confessed that he killed his family? Some Amish believed murder was unpardonable and would destine him to spend eternity in hell. And even though it was accidental and unintentional, the fact remained that his failure to return to the house and turn off the gas had caused the explosion.

  He didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he wanted to be free from the guilt, the pain, the weight. He wanted to breathe in a great big breath of grace.

  Gott’s grace. And mercy. Forgiveness.

  Too bad it wasn’t intended for him.

  He sighed heavily and flicked the light on.

  At least he’d shed a little light on the subject.

  But the room was cold, so very cold, and the heaters took forever to even begin to make a difference. It’d help a lot if he could paint in the house. Abigail didn’t like the odor of paint fumes, but maybe she’d make an exception during this bitter cold snap. He’d ask her at lunch. It’d help considerably if he could paint after dark when he was inside anyway. Not to mention they’d dry ever so much better.