“Sit a moment. Beside me.”
She gulped, glanced at the bishop for permission and, at his nod, tugged her hand free from Levi’s grip and pulled a chair around to face him.
He scooted the trash can away, adjusted the chair so it was closer to his, and motioned her to sit.
His tortured expression didn’t ease.
Her worry sprang to life.
Trust in the Lord…Gott, help.
She dropped into the chair, and Levi took the dustpan from her and set it beside whatever it was he had been working on.
Noah laid the paintbrush down and rested his hands, palms up, on the table.
Bishop Nathan continued gluing a circus train cage as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Abigail delivered a bowl piled full of taffy to the table since they hadn’t made more cookies yet. And she lingered.
And Elsie’s stomach was churning, and she braced herself for the coming talk and wondered why she’d even wanted to hear this in the first place.
Levi grasped Elsie’s hands again. He gulped. And gazed into her eyes as if she were his sole source of strength. Of comfort.
Trust in the Lord…
He opened his mouth. Worked it. And nothing emerged. Except a strangled moan.
Bishop Nathan cleared his throat. “An Amish proverb goes, ‘You can spare yourself many problems…’ It doesn’t say how, but I like to think that it’s ‘if you start with prayer.’ With that said, let’s pray. I’m going to break with tradition and pray out loud.”
A muscle jumped in Levi’s jaw, but he dipped his head.
Trust Gott…acknowledge Him…Gott, lead this conversation. Help me to trust.
The bishop bowed his head and Elsie quickly closed her eyes. “Heavenly Father, this conversation might be difficult for Levi. Please, go before us, guide this conversation, and let Your will be done in this conversation as well as in Levi’s life. Give me wisdom on how to respond. Amen.”
Elsie opened her eyes, and once again Levi gazed into hers. This time there were tears pooling on his lashes. And maybe a smidgen of hope glimmering in his expression.
“I killed my entire family,” he blurted.
What? Elsie blinked. That wasn’t what she had expected. How could Levi have done that?
That simply wasn’t possible.
* * *
Levi latched his attention on Elsie, focusing on the trust reflected in her eyes. Her belief in him might spare him many problems. Although her tempting curves and peppermint caused their own problems. All he knew was that even if she overreacted, she was the one he needed to cling to. He wasn’t convinced that Gott heard his cries for forgiveness, even if the police ignored his multiple confessions of guilt that terrible day.
Somebody gasped. Levi didn’t look, but he thought it was Abigail.
“What do you mean, you killed your family?” The bishop’s voice came through a thick fog.
Elsie’s hands tightened around his.
He swallowed his fear. The confession had begun and that was the hardest part. Or it should be, anyway. “I was going out to my workshop to finish a gift I planned to make for Elsie.” A still-unfinished gift, buried at the back of the highest shelf in his shop. “We were courting at that time. As I passed the propane tank, I noticed a gas smell, but I didn’t take the time to go back into the house to tell Daed. I didn’t turn off the supply. I did nothing. And then the world exploded and everyone was gone except for Abigail, and she wasn’t expected to survive.”
“Daed knew,” Abigail whispered.
Levi gulped. Even though he heard the words, they didn’t make any sense to him.
“I murdered my family. I’m condemned. And that’s why I can’t marry.”
* * *
Elsie wanted to cry. What terrible lies Levi believed. Words of denial danced on the edge of her tongue, but she fought to keep them contained. She sensed the words needed to come from someone else. So all she did was squeeze his hands to show her support. Prayed, Gott, help him know the truth. And gazed into his tear-filled eyes, finally seeing the love shining in them, the exact same look in his eyes that Noah had when he looked at Abigail—absolute trust and faith that while this “surgery” might hurt, she wouldn’t deliberately cause him pain. Mixed with them was a liberal helping of love—as if she alone mattered to him. Or that she was the center of his world. Or something that she wasn’t able to find the words for. All she could do was stare back, offer her support and love, and pray.
The tears beading on his lashes spilled, running down his cheeks in rivers. And despite the presence of the bishop and that couples even touching was frowned upon—though really, that was unrealistic—she opened her arms wide. Levi fell against her shoulder and sobbed out years of pent-up grief.
She wrapped her arms around him, rubbed his back, and prayed.
Bishop Nathan went for…something. Shuffling sounds came from the living room followed by “Hmm.”
“What are you looking for?” Abigail rolled in that direction.
“I thought Levi kept his Bible in here.”
“I took it up to the loft,” Elsie said.
“I’ll get it.” Noah stood.
Elsie gathered Levi closer.
He turned his wet face into her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I regret my mistakes. Every single one of them. Including you.”
Wait. She was a mistake?
Chapter 24
Levi wanted to pull Elsie closer and kiss her for listening, but that would be highly inappropriate and, after crying like a baby, probably a turnoff. He’d noticed her stiffening there at the end. A man who cried on a woman’s shoulder shouldn’t expect said woman to be moved with passion, especially in front of an audience that included their throat-clearing bishop and their siblings.
He rather reluctantly disengaged himself from her arms and mopped his face with his sleeve. He looked around, surprised to find himself alone with Elsie at the dining room table. Abigail set three unlit taper candles on the end table in the main room while the bishop stood at the foot of the ladder, watching Noah climb down carrying something black. A book. Levi’s Bible? What was it doing upstairs?
Noah handed the Bible to the bishop, who thumbed through it while returning to the kitchen.
He opened the Bible and handed it to Levi, then sat, followed by Noah.
Levi glanced down. 1 Timothy 1.
“Read verses nine and fifteen. Out loud, please.” Bishop Nathan picked up an unpainted circus train cage. He ran his fingers along the edges. Levi hoped they were sanded smooth. Though honestly, that paled considering the harsh judgment about to be passed down straight from Gott’s mouth. He braced himself, then winced as he realized Elsie would hear the punishment. And not only her, but also Noah and Abigail. However, now that he’d brought up the topic, it was best to get it over with.
Elsie shifted her chair farther away as Abigail wheeled into the room.
Levi looked down at the passages. He cleared his throat, running his fingertip over the words. “Knowing this, that the law is not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and for sinners, for unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers…” He stumbled to a stop, his voice breaking. Even if he did blame himself for letting it happen…He glanced at Abigail to see tears running down her cheeks. And injuring sisters…“It was an accident!”
Noah nodded.
It hurt too much to look at Elsie, despite being very aware of her skirt brushing against his pant leg.
“I know. Read verse fifteen.”
Levi stared at the bishop for a long moment; then he cleared his throat again. “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.”
“Remind me what Paul did.” Bishop Nathan raised his bushy gray eyebrows.
Levi closed the Bible on his fingers, keeping the location. “He, um, when
he didn’t know Jesus, he killed Christians.”
“On purpose. Not accidentally.”
Levi nodded. Paul had done much worse than Levi ever had. If anyone deserved to be arrested, it was—
“And he was forgiven. Now read Ephesians 1:6.” Bishop Nathan picked up a piece of sandpaper.
Levi thumbed through the Bible to find the verse. “To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved.”
Accepted? Was it possible? He looked up.
Bishop Nathan speared him with a glance. “If He can forgive Paul, can He forgive you?”
Levi’s gaze skittered from the bishop to Elsie, still sitting in front of him, head bowed. His throat threatened to close. He swallowed and managed a mute nod. Lord Gott, forgive me. Help me to forgive myself.
“Think on this: The Lord knows us through and through. Despite our sin, He loves us. Because of our sin, He came and died to save us.” Bishop Nathan rubbed a spot on the circus train car with the sandpaper. “Now Abigail has something to share.”
Levi glanced at his sister. She had said something earlier. What was it? He tried to remember. Something about Daed…
Noah reached for her hand, a silent show of support.
“Daed knew.” Abigail stated it as absolute fact. “He was going to call the company on Monday, but we used propane for everything back then and we were cooking and showering for church the next day and Daed reasoned that it should be okay for another day or two. And maybe it would have been, except our sister Susan got into an argument with Mamm about her bad choices. Susan snuck out for a forbidden cigarette; I saw her from the back window, and the lit match and the fumes…” She shook her head. “For months, I was so angry at Susan for doing this to me.” She waved at the wheelchair. “But her must-have cigarette cost her own life. Forgive yourself, Levi. You aren’t to blame.”
“Daed knew? Susan smoked?” Levi stared at Abigail. How could he have missed knowing that? Then again, he’d been consumed with thoughts of Elsie and their hoped-for upcoming wedding…
He vaguely remembered Susan storming into the kitchen that Saturday evening. He’d turned his back on her drama, grabbed a cinnamon roll that Mamm was making for breakfast, and hurried out to the workshop…
“I had no idea you blamed yourself. I would’ve told you sooner,” Abigail whispered.
“Your daed would’ve left the propane on, for the necessities,” the bishop said. “If Susan hadn’t lit a match, it might have been fine. You are not guilty of murdering your family. Forgive yourself.”
Levi tried to absorb the truth. To let the truth of the situation fully sink in and the burden roll off his shoulders. It was Susan’s fault. And instead of paying penance with extra work for the past years, he’d been the man of the house and caring for the household that remained. He sat straighter, a lightness around his heart.
“And forget that nonsense you said earlier. You can marry…” His gaze slid to Elsie. Lingered. Then returned to Levi with a furrow in his brow.
Levi embraced the gift of forgiveness. Of hope mixed with a desire for Elsie. Of a sudden craving for peppermint…
“But you need to explain to Elsie why she is a mistake,” Bishop Nathan continued.
“What? She’s not.” Levi blinked. Looked at Elsie. Pain radiated across her expression, darkened her eyes. “Did I say she was?”
“Mind that I couldn’t hear clearly, but I believe you said, ‘All my mistakes. Including you,’ to Elsie,” the bishop said.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Levi whispered, grasping her hand again. Time for damage control. He couldn’t let her get away again.
“I’ll give you and Elsie ten minutes of unchaperoned time alone to talk. But you might want to stay out of the mudroom.” Bishop Nathan winked.
“The bedroom’s okay, then?” Levi raised a brow.
* * *
Elsie didn’t quite know what to think as she looked into Levi’s twinkling eyes. He made a joke? It’d been far too long since he’d made a joke. Since there had been a twinkle in his eyes. She was glad he found freedom in the truth even though she wasn’t sure what he meant about her being a mistake. Or what he could do to undo the pain of his words.
The bishop spluttered.
Noah chuckled. “It’s not often you find a rabbit in the middle of a field.”
Daed quoted that sometimes, crediting a rather quirky Michigan bishop who visited Hidden Springs as a guest speaker once. It meant to “grab an opportunity when you can” as near as Elsie could figure. Now she had an opportunity to demand and get the truth about how he really felt about her.
“The bedroom!” Bishop Nathan’s face flamed red. “Not before marriage, young man. Just for that, you can talk outside or have your moment of privacy in the living room.”
Which wouldn’t be very private, with it being open to the dining room and kitchen.
And outside meant talking quickly so they wouldn’t get frostbite.
Levi smiled, but it wasn’t big and bright. It was more of a smirk. He stood, pulled Elsie from her chair, and led her to the loft ladder steps. Open to below, yet more private than the main area. They’d be able to talk quietly—the blizzard winds would block most of the conversation, if not all. She wouldn’t ask for more.
If he didn’t mean she was a mistake, though, why’d he say it? And what did he really mean to say? That breaking up was a mistake? That leaving her behind at his third cousin’s wedding was a mistake? That letting her walk away and avoiding her were mistakes? Or that even if he could marry, she wasn’t his first choice now?
She scampered up the ladder steps behind him and looked for a clear spot on the floor to sit. Levi would get the chair, of course. But he shoved everything off half of the desk, undoing hours of her work—no wonder he had such a mess—and motioned for her to sit. On the desk.
Okay, then. She perched on the edge, leaning against it, because really, who sat on a desk? Other than schoolteachers. But who cared about that right now? She was alone with Levi.
He swirled the office chair around to face her.
He hesitated. Frowned. “This will be awkward. I had no time to plan out what to say.” He inhaled. Exhaled with a puff. “You are not a mistake. How I treated you was.”
Oh. Well, she could definitely agree with that. Not that she was completely innocent. “I’m the one who lashed out irra—”
He rolled forward, reached up, and touched his finger to her lips just as his cell phone buzzed. He didn’t let his finger linger but pulled away. He picked up his phone, glanced at it, then frowned and set it down, focusing on Elsie again. “I was wrong to accuse you of that. I was the one who left you alone at a distant family wedding and forgot you when Abigail had a setback and nearly died. I didn’t pay for your bus ticket. And I didn’t even bother to explain when you confronted me.”
“I didn’t give you a chance.” Guilt over her own actions filled her, overriding the relief at hearing him admit to his mistakes. “I’m sorry.” Maybe once they got past this they could start healing their relationship. A sliver of hope flared to life.
He hung his head. “Then I avoided you for over a year, and when you brought me a huge check I needed but had lost, I acted immature, hiding like a child in the weeds behind the barn, then saying some unkind things, followed by hot-and-heavy kissing that I shouldn’t have done. Using you at the frolic to keep other girls away and, quite honestly, guys away from yo—”
The cell phone buzzed again. Insistently. The interruption irritated her, but at least it gave her a few moments to process his words and let them settle in her heart.
Levi picked it up again. Glanced at the screen. “I don’t recognize the number.” He swiped it. “Wyse Construction. Levi speaking.”
* * *
“Hi.” The female voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Levi, this is Jane Turner, Elsie’s friend. I mentioned that I was going to be building your website, but in the meantime I listed you
r handcrafted toys on—”
Oh. He’d forgotten about that and he needed to discuss it with Elsie. He pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the speaker option. Elsie—as his elf—would be able to hear, then, and they could discuss it rationally. He also needed to get permission from the bishop if he decided he needed a website to pursue his hobby as a job.
“Anyway, we have a slight issue,” Jane continued. “A man wants to order several items for Christmas gifts for his grandchildren. He’s willing to pay double and for expedited shipping. I know you said you’re booked until after Christmas, but Elsie said you needed the money for medical bills, and with that in mind, I accepted on your behalf.”
Levi saw red. “I haven’t even discussed the website with the bishop yet, and—”
The woman made some sound of dismissal. “Elsie always says that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than to get permission. I’ll email you the details.”
Really? She said that? Levi looked at Elsie. The color drained from her face, leaving her eyes wide, her cheeks pale.
He counted to ten multiple times.
Jane apparently took his silence as agreement, gave a cheery goodbye, and disconnected.
Levi placed his phone back on the desk. Sighed. “Elsie…”
“She’s a bit pushy.”
That was an understatement. But then so was his elf. “Elsie.” He took a deep breath.
“You know, I’ll just give you some space.” Elsie’s smile wobbled.
That was probably wise.
Not that he was mad at her. It was more that her flippant impulsiveness had put him in an impossible situation both with the bishop and with meeting the new order deadline.
He wanted to shake her…
No. He wanted to kiss her. To thank her for her support and belief in him and then gently suggest clearing things with him first.
She straightened. Grabbing a small pile of papers, she handed it to him. “I know this won’t change anything, but I found these.” Her voice broke. “Uncashed checks.” Then she turned and almost dashed for the ladder steps.
The Amish Christmas Gift Page 21
