The Amish Christmas Gift

by Laura V. Hilton

  George glanced at her, then sat at the table. “The redhead is here. Let’s eat!” he shouted.

  She wasn’t a redhead. She was strawberry blond. But it wasn’t worth trying to explain the differences to George. Elsie sighed.

  Levi gave her a sympathetic look. He knew it was one of her pet peeves.

  Abigail raised a wooden spoon from a kettle and turned her wheelchair with a frown. “The oatmeal is almost done, but not quite.”

  “That’s what you get for oversleeping,” George groused.

  Elsie glanced at the battery-operated wall clock. “Overslept?” It was barely past four in the morning! And after staying awake talking most of the night…

  Even Noah seemed draggy…as if he and Levi had had a gabfest. Did men do that?

  “As the good book says, ‘Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,’” George bellowed.

  What? Elsie was pretty sure that was said by Benjamin Franklin, not in the Bible.

  “And ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away’?” Noah quipped.

  George pointed at him. “Exactly. And speaking of which, I want an apple cut up in my oatmeal.”

  “Jah, and we have no apples.” Abigail glowered at no one in particular, yet everyone in general, and turned the wheelchair away, muttering something about bean soup and oatmeal under her breath. Even sweet Abigail was cranky in the wee hours of the morning.

  “I’m going to let the puppy out before we eat,” Noah said, right as George started beating his spoon on the table like an overgrown child.

  Elsie smiled. George’s wife had suggested George might be suffering from the beginning stages of dementia, but he refused to go to a doctor. All Elsie knew was George seemed to thrive on any type of attention.

  Levi winced as he took the spoon away from him. “Behave yourself, George. Breakfast will be here in a minute.” He glanced at Elsie and nodded toward Abigail right as Noah opened the door to a blast of cold air.

  “Whoa. Would you look at this, Levi?” Noah called.

  Elsie rushed to help Abigail when she almost dropped the hot kettle. Abigail’s lap saved from the still-bubbling cereal, Elsie reached for the knob and turned the stove off as Abigail spun away and rolled over to Noah and the cowering puppy.

  Levi walked over to the wide-open door as Noah picked up the puppy and carried it outside. Curiosity finally got the best of Elsie and she went to peek through the window. Darkness still covered the land, but what she saw from the inside lights were large flakes of blowing snow that had already accumulated so much the porch steps had vanished into an unidentifiable heap of white.

  Noah put the puppy down, and the poor thing disappeared to her belly. Her tail curved down and in, and Stormy let out a pitiful howl.

  “Aw.” Abigail rolled a little closer to the porch. “Can you hold her above it?”

  With a grin, Noah lifted Stormy above the snow and held her.

  Elsie smiled. Her brother must really be in love to be willing to do this to keep Abigail happy. Hopefully, the wind wouldn’t carry the puppy’s “business” all over Noah’s clothes.

  Levi curved his arm around Elsie’s waist, pressing her against his side.

  She glanced up at him and smiled.

  He glanced over his shoulder, then dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

  A crash sounded behind her. Elsie jerked away from Levi and turned as George’s feet tangled in his fallen chair, and he threw out his arms and lunged forward.

  The walking stick went flying.

  And with a savage roar, George hit the floor, rolled, grabbed his stick and…

  Came up swinging.

  * * *

  Whoever thought George would make a good chaperone needed to have their head examined, but after three more painful whacks to his knees for simply side-hugging Elsie, Levi determined he didn’t need to worry about anyone’s virtue. Nothing—much—got past George.

  Levi’s legs would be black and blue. Who would’ve guessed that George would be so violent and cantankerous?

  And if Levi survived this weekend, he owed the man a huge thank-you for keeping an eye on Elsie and Abigail.

  Levi frowned. George hadn’t attacked Noah with the walking stick. Which meant that Noah was behaving himself—a good thing—or that he was much better at sneaking around than Levi—a bad thing. Of course, it might simply mean that George liked Noah.

  Everybody liked Noah.

  Levi tamped down the green-eyed monster as Noah brought the puppy inside.

  George pointed to his fallen chair, so Levi picked it up, hovered while George sat, then made his way to the other side of the table to his seat. Or at least his seat for now. George had claimed Levi’s usual place at the head of the table.

  Elsie hurried back to the stove and ladled out oatmeal while Noah put the puppy on Abigail’s lap and handed her the rag to dry off the pup’s feet. Elsie set a small bowl of oatmeal on the floor for Stormy.

  “Let’s pray!” George bellowed.

  The wind howled louder in response.

  Elsie bowed her head while standing at the stove—something generally frowned at, but George seemed disinclined to wait. Noah did move from where he crouched before Abigail and the puppy to an empty chair next to Levi. The one Elsie had sat in last night.

  “Amen!” Another shout from George came before Levi even closed his eyes.

  They ate in silence; then, in apparent mutual agreement, Levi and Noah bundled up to go out to the barn. The horses needed to be cared for. Not to mention the train orders needed to be worked on.

  And Levi had forgotten to ask Abigail’s permission to work in the house. He turned.

  Abigail smiled. “Noah already asked. Jah, but nothing too messy.”

  “And obviously nothing requiring a generator to run,” Noah added.

  Obviously. “Danki. I will likely work out in the barn awhile, but call me if you need me.” He wasn’t looking forward to the chill, but he needed to get some serious work done. He also needed some alone time. Away from loud George and the major distraction Elsie caused.

  “Me, too. I’ll help him. I’m curious about it anyway,” Noah added.

  So much for alone time.

  “We’ll be in for dinner. Bean soup, I guess?” Noah bent to pick up Stormy.

  “Supper will be bean soup. What was your first clue?” Elsie sounded a bit sarcastic as she dumped a bag of fifteen different kinds of dried beans into a large pot. But he could excuse a bit of snarkiness since it had been an early morning, even by Amish standards. And a late night, because even though he and Noah talked, he still heard the hum of the girls’ voices coming from Abigail’s room along with an occasional giggle.

  George stood and trotted into the mudroom. A second later the bathroom door closed behind him. Levi hesitated, wanting to rush over and kiss his elf good morning.

  But that would be a bad idea for more than one reason.

  He settled for a wink and an unspoken promise to kiss her later.

  And her sweet blush that threatened to highjack his thoughts.

  Chapter 19

  Usually, dry beans needed to be soaked overnight, but one could quick soak them for an hour or so after the water boils. Elsie set the pot full of beans on the woodstove to boil, and then chopped celery, carrots, onions, and ham to add later. The soup would mostly stay on the woodstove to cook all day, but George would have to be satisfied with whatever Abigail wanted to fix for the noon meal.

  As soon as Levi and Noah left for the barn, Abigail disappeared, frowning and mumbling something about making beds—even though Elsie had already made one. Elsie cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast while George prowled and paced, muttering under his breath while eyeing the blizzard outside. The barn had disappeared in a sheet of white.

  Realizing Abigail hadn’t returned, Elsie went to check on Abigail and found her sound asleep on the bed. That ought to help improve her mood, providing George let her sleep. Elsie yawned, t
empted to take a nap, too. But that would leave George unsupervised, and there were so many ways he could get into mischief.

  Speaking of George, she should check on his elderly wife, Mildred. George wouldn’t be able to talk with her, but Elsie could make sure she was safe and assure her that George was, too. They had to miss each other, being apart overnight after so many years of marriage.

  Elsie grabbed her purse from the top of Abigail’s dresser, quietly stepped out and shut the bedroom door, and while George continued pacing and muttering, she went up the ladder steps to Levi’s loft office to work. She pulled her cell phone from the bottom of her purse and scrolled through her contacts for George’s number.

  Mildred cleared her voice twice after picking up the phone. “Hello, George’s Buggy Repair, Mildred speaking.” Despite clearing her throat, her voice still sounded a bit rusty from disuse.

  “Mildred, this is Elsie Miller. George was chaperoning us youngies at the taffy pull last night as you know and he got iced in—”

  “Oh, you just keep him as long as you need to, Elsie. Tell him his cats are fine and that I have plenty of bean soup prepared. Of course, there will remain plenty of soup because I won’t touch it when he isn’t here, but don’t mention that part.”

  Elsie snorted. It must be awful to be forced to eat bean soup for every meal except breakfast. “I sure won’t say a word—”

  “Good. I’m feasting on a hamburger and French fries right now, but don’t tell him that either or I’ll get a lecture on the many benefits of a bean soup diet.” Mildred cackled.

  “We had that discussion last night.” Elsie caught movement in her peripheral vision and she looked toward the loft ladder. George’s head and shoulders appeared. She sighed. “I need to go, but I didn’t want you to worry.”

  Though maybe she should be concerned about the elderly man climbing ladders…

  “Oh, I’m not worried a bit. Keep him as long as you can. I’m overdue for a vacation. Bye now.” And the phone beeped.

  Okay, then. Elsie could understand how the woman might feel, and she’d only had to endure George’s quirks for a few hours instead of years. She dropped the phone back into her purse and went to help George if he needed it. He wobbled slightly on the top step but made it into the loft without assistance.

  “Give me a minute to catch my breath,” George huffed, bending over.

  Of course, getting him down might be another story, but at least he was leaving Abigail alone to rest. And maybe Abigail would return the favor later and let Elsie take a nap.

  Although, George letting Abigail rest might have more to do with George’s distrust of Elsie and Levi than kindness for Abigail. In which case, George would be standing sentry outside the bedroom door if Elsie did attempt to nap.

  Not a bad thing with Levi’s unexpected “friendliness” and friskiness. Elsie liked it but wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. What was going through Levi’s mind—and how would he define their relationship? He’d said that he still loved her. Did that mean he was implying they were back together as a dating couple? Or were they unofficially almost-engaged again? Or did it simply mean that he was a man and his basic caveman tendencies were taking over? As in, any woman who wasn’t his sister would do? Except she’d seen him avoid what’s-her-name last night at the taffy pull, so maybe “any woman” wouldn’t do, but that still didn’t mean he really still loved her. That he wouldn’t prey on her past feelings to feed his ego and hormones. Maybe he was simply saying what he thought she wanted to hear?

  She did want to hear it, but she wanted him to mean it. And if he didn’t…

  He didn’t. He had no intentions to marry her. He just wanted…

  Her eyes burned.

  Oh. That hurt. It was a good thing she was moving to Chicago. She needed distance from Levi. His previous method of avoidance worked best with their circumstances.

  If it weren’t for the blizzard, she’d quit her job and demand that Noah take her home now.

  After George sat, of course. He’d straightened and begun to move. She eyed the distance between the shuffling, wobbly old man and the chair. George was slower than brownie batter when walking without his support stick. She offered him her arm but he waved her off. “I got it!” he shouted.

  Right.

  Elsie pointed George to Levi’s office chair, put him to work helping her sort papers by vendor, then gave him Mildred’s message and a tissue when he started crying about missing his cats. Though she might have to redo the paperwork later. Especially since when George started telling her about his cats and naming names, he began moving papers here and there and back again.

  Elsie zoned out when he got to the nineteenth cat and was still going strong.

  How many cats did the man have anyway?

  Too many.

  Not that she’d tell him that.

  He droned on, his voice getting slower and lower; then he quieted.

  She worked for a couple of hours, maybe three, making significant progress on the mess that was Levi’s office. He should be pleased with the difference she made.

  Even more pleased when he discovered that she found seven checks he’d never deposited. They weren’t large, and together they totaled less than five hundred dollars, but still. Money was money. She paper-clipped the checks together and put them in an empty spot on the desk.

  The blizzard winds howled, the fire in the stove crackled, and down below something thumped, bumped, and thudded as if the entire woodpile stacked outside the front door decided to tumble.

  The puppy started barking. Well, yipping.

  Elsie put her stack of papers down, glanced at George—his head bobbed over his chest as he slept—then went down the ladder.

  Another crash.

  Abigail came into the living room. “What’s going on?”

  Elsie shrugged. She flung the door open.

  And in tumbled the Abominable Snow Monster.

  * * *

  As noon approached, Levi stretched and grabbed a couple of bottles of mostly frozen water from the shelf on the outside wall. He handed one to Noah. The two of them had accomplished more on the trains than Levi thought possible. Noah was a quick worker and once Levi explained what needed to be done, he went straight to work, first sanding and then assembling the train’s cages as soon as Levi got the pieces measured and cut out.

  Noah’s cabinetmaking skills came in handy as he seemed to effortlessly fit pieces together. He took a sip of icy water. His eyes were wide as he looked around.

  “You get paid for doing this? Really?”

  The fourth time he’d said it that morning. With the same expression of wonder.

  Levi had ignored him the first three times. Now he hesitated a moment. Noah hadn’t asked an amount, but he—and his daed—probably wondered if Levi could support Elsie in the event they actually married. If Levi ever saw his way cleared from guilt. And hello, jah, he wanted to marry her with every fiber of his being. He cleared his throat, then mentioned how much the gift shop owner, Mark, had mentioned he sold the first train for. Levi hadn’t been to town to collect the money yet.

  Noah’s eyes bugged. “Wow! Seriously?”

  Jah, right now it paid much better than Levi’s odds-and-ends “honeydo” construction business, but the construction job could be counted on to generate income year-round. Toymaking couldn’t. Which was why Daed called it a hobby.

  Would Noah expect a generous cut for helping out?

  Levi studied Noah’s work. He was good. He deserved some sort of honorarium, especially if Levi made his deadline, after all. In fact, if he married Abigail, maybe Noah could come to work for Levi as a cabinetmaker, because cabinet orders could be a year-round thing to fill in between toy orders, too.

  And maybe Levi could find the courage to confess his sins to Bishop Nathan and find out if he was destined for hell or if Gott could somehow forgive him, extending enough grace and mercy for Levi to maybe someday marry Elsie.

  If she’d have hi
m.

  She’d said she would take him back, but would she if she knew the truth?

  Love never fails. The core of the “love chapter” Noah had quoted.

  Did Gott love him like that?

  Levi felt the sudden urge to bend his knees and pray—for forgiveness, for mercy, for him and Elsie, for so many other things. But would Gott hear him? And what would Noah think if Levi wept in agony and grief for no apparent reason? Noah would probably call the bishop—who didn’t need to be out in this weather, and…Oh horrors, Levi would be excommunicated in front of Elsie and Abigail. His stomach cramped.

  He turned away from Noah and forced his attention to what they’d accomplished.

  The rest of the gluing and the clamping could be done in the house. Actually, that’d probably be best since they’d dry faster in a warm space. The painting could be done inside, too.

  The heaters were still not even making a dent in the frigid air. And now that Levi wasn’t working, he felt the chill.

  Or maybe it was the icy water freezing him from the inside out.

  “How about we go in, get something to eat, and thaw out?” Noah apparently felt the same. Cold.

  “If I find a box to load this stuff in, we could probably work on painting inside the house this afternoon. There’s an old child’s sled in storage. Up in the loft. There are probably boxes up there, too.” He hadn’t been up there for almost two years. His stomach cramped again, this time from grief. “We could use it to haul stuff to the house.” His voice broke. The sled used to be his littlest brother’s.

  “I’ll get the sled,” Noah said quietly, “and find a big box, if you want to gather what you need together.”

  Like Levi’s control over his emotions? He managed a nod. And gulped.

  Noah left the workshop and Levi took the time to get down on his knees near the heaters. He bowed his head, words clamoring for release, but the jumbled mess of thoughts emerged as, Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott. I’m so very sorry. If You could find Your way clear to forgive me…Followed by a flood of tears that left him gasping for breath, as a refrain of Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott played over and over.