The Dawn of Christmas: A Romance from the Heart of Amish Country

by Cindy Woodsmall

  He wanted to bridle Amigo and see what the thoroughbred could really do. Elmer Stoltzfus wouldn’t mind if Levi left his rig here and borrowed a bridle. He took one off the wall and walked through the dimly lit barn until he found Amigo. He slid the bit into the horse’s mouth.

  He led the animal to the lantern, extinguished the flame, then climbed up bareback. He’d take the route where he wouldn’t be seen along the way. Maybe he’d stop by the creek and toss a few stones before calling it a night.

  When his pocket vibrated, he pulled out his phone. Levi was allowed a cell phone for work purposes, as were others who needed them for business. If he followed the Old Ways, he’d have tucked the phone in a drawer when he got home from delivering a gazebo last Friday night. But he liked being able to text with friends. Amigo’s uneven movement made it a little challenging to read the message, but he saw enough to know his younger cousin was harassing him about leaving the singing alone … again. If Matthew had any sense, he wouldn’t be engaged at nineteen years old to a girl who was seventeen. They couldn’t possibly know themselves well enough to make a lifetime promise.

  Levi had been given a gift: insight into the gamble involved with loving a woman. No wonder the apostle Paul said that if a man could stay single without sinning against God, he should do so. His family had witnessed firsthand that women were not worth the risk. So why did they always press Levi on the subject?

  Frustration circled, and Levi gripped the phone as if wanting to squeeze the life out of it. He clutched the reins and urged the horse to go faster and faster. The muggy night air felt cool against his skin. After a few moments several loud booms rang out. Fireworks.

  Without warning, the horse reared up on his two back legs, whinnying, and the phone flew out of Levi’s hand.

  “Whoa!” He tugged on the reins, trying to bring the animal under control, but the air vibrated with another round of fireworks. Amigo reared and kicked higher and faster.

  “Easy, boy.” Levi’s voice wavered like Jell-O being shaken, and Amigo bucked harder. The darkness around Levi blurred, and when the horse began to spin, Levi was no longer sure where the road lay and where the patch of woods was. Amigo came to a sudden stop, and Levi sailed over the horse’s head.

  He landed with a horrid thud. Pain shot through every inch of him, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He tried to relax, hoping that he just had the air knocked out of him.

  God, please.

  His breath returned with a vengeance, and he sucked in heavy air. But pain ricocheted through his back, and dread surrounded him even more than the darkness of night. He needed help, but he could feel consciousness slipping away. Was he going to die here, a place where no one was likely to find him until Old Man Hostetler decided to cut his hay again … sometime next spring?

  It hurt to breathe. A sharp pain skittered up and down his torso and to the top of his head. He felt as if he were rolling on shards of glass. But he couldn’t move.

  He needed help, and he could get it … if he could get to his phone.

  Anxiety grew like a shadow from the ground and stood over him, looming all around as if it were strong enough to snatch his life right out of him.

  Levi pried his eyes open, almost startled when he didn’t see a menacing Grim Reaper above him, poised to strike. The black sky reminded him how sinister the world felt at times, but then the stars looked like white marbles that he could hold in the palm of his hand.

  If he lived through this night, he’d look back on this moment and recall seeing the universe in all its majesty and recognizing he was only a powerless man staring into the vastness of an all-powerful God.

  The sounds of night faded as he slipped into darkness.

  Jonah eased into the bedroom, a cup of hot tea in hand.

  Beth opened her eyes for a moment. “I’m awake.” His wife sat upright, holding her head.

  Jonah adjusted the pillows. She sank against them and then held out her hands for the mug.

  With her eyes closed, she took a sip. “As soon as my head stops spinning, I’ll be fine.”

  He sat in the chair beside her, admiring her beauty even after such a hard few days.

  She blinked and then focused on him. “Oh, honey, stop looking so sad. It had to happen. We were both perfectly healthy for a year leading up to the wedding, and we’ve had seven months of wedded bliss without so much as a cold, even through the long winter months of serving hundreds of customers. So it’s no wonder you picked up a stomach flu and shared it with me. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “I was better in twenty-four hours. You’re going on three days.”

  “My goal is to have these symptoms linger until you feel so guilty you’ll never share another virus with me.”

  “You accomplished complete dishonor on my part the first minute you turned pale.”

  She chuckled.

  He loved her laugh. Her voice. Her heart. Her tenacity and stubbornness and exuberance and …

  Jonah took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. She had no idea what she did to him, and his desire to take care of her, to protect her from all harm grew stronger every day. But a man could not share these feelings with a woman like Beth. She didn’t want to be taken care of. She wanted to make strong decisions and carry them out. And that’s what she did and had been doing since long before they met.

  Still, this illness concerned him. He cleared his throat. “I want you to be seen tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be seen. I’ll wake up feeling better, and customers will see me all day.”

  “Beth, don’t be difficult. You know what I mean.” He’d feel better once she saw the doctor. Doctors who tended only to the Plain community set up their clinics to be a one-stop answer. Otherwise the multitude of uninsured Amish and Mennonites wouldn’t go. So whether a patient needed a severed digit sewn back on or a cancer screening or an x-ray, Dr. Baxter took care of it at his office.

  Beth crossed her arms, a slight pout on her lips. “We’ve been advertising tomorrow’s specials since Memorial Day.”

  “And I’ll see to it the store runs smoothly.” He kissed her hand again.

  “Lizzy’s off on another trip with Omar. You’ll need me.”

  Beth’s aunt had married the bishop, so the two of them traveled regularly to visit the other church districts where Bishop Omar would be the guest preacher. It was all part of being a bishop. But since the wedding, Lizzy traveled more weeks than she was home.

  Jonah squeezed her hand. “I’m sure I’ll miss you being at the store, but I’ll be fine, and most of the hired girls will be there to help too.”

  “It’s the Fourth. The doctor’s office isn’t likely to be open.”

  “Dr. Baxter takes off about five weekdays a year, and the Fourth isn’t one of them.”

  “Wonderful.” Her playful frustration rang clear. “Are all doctors whose practice is limited to Amish and Mennonite communities that steadfast?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d appreciate if you’d stop trying to change the subject as well as my mind.” He paused. “Please.”

  She sighed. “Husbands.”

  She whispered the word in mock disgust whenever he annoyed her. But her response let him know he’d won. This time.

  Usually winning brought him a sense of amusement or playful victory, but the fact she’d given in as easily as she did only added to his concern.

  With the old Bible in her lap, Sadie prayed. But the more she did, the more she felt an overwhelming desire to ride Bay. How could she crave going against her father’s wishes while praying for wisdom? That made no sense at all.

  She closed the Bible. Was she so rebellious that she couldn’t do as her Daed wanted for one evening?

  She ran her fingertips across the worn leather of the Bible. God, what is wrong with me?

  The desire to saddle Bay tugged at her even stronger. Apparently she was too rebellious to do as her Daed wanted. She sighed and took the lantern into her bedroom. She lifted her overnig
ht bag onto the bed and pulled out her riding clothes. Once dressed, she removed her prayer Kapp and untwined her hair. After running her fingers through the waves, she created a long but loosely woven french braid. If she was going to ride Bay over unfamiliar terrain, especially at night, she had to wear pants. And she couldn’t wear a prayer Kapp or have her hair pinned up. Her head would look Amish while the rest of her looked Englisch. If anyone saw someone riding who looked Amish, it could be traced back to her, and the news would bring shame to her father and trouble to herself. But if people spotted a girl riding who they thought was Englisch, no one would think anything about it.

  She carried the lantern with her and left the house. A muggy breeze stirred the lush trees, and fireworks popped in the distance. The clear sky above carried a few white, shining jewels despite the summer haze.

  Sadie opened the barn door, and the old mare raised her head. Bay wasn’t particularly fast, but Sadie believed the horse loved their rare long nights of riding as much as she did.

  When Sadie had Bay ready to leave her stall, she blew out the lantern and mounted the mare. The clip-clop of hoofs against the ground made Sadie’s heart pick up its pace. She went slowly at first, giving Bay time to warm up. Once they were on the path that led to a stranger’s pasture, Sadie loosened the reins, allowing Bay to pick up speed. The mare gave it her all, and Sadie intertwined her fingers through the mane to hold on over the rough landscape.

  The sights and smells of summer in Apple Ridge revived her weary soul. Living in Stone Creek, a town of considerable size, had a very different feel to it. An occasional firework went off around her, but the loudest of them had ended before she began her ride.

  The moon sparkled off the water in the brook as Bay trotted across the shallow creek bed. Sadie patted the mare’s neck. “Good girl. We rode with the wind, ya?”

  Bay continued onward, but an odd sound arose from the ground. Sadie tensed. She clicked her tongue, ready to nudge her heels into Bay’s side and move back toward home, but then … Which direction was home? She tugged on the reins, slowing Bay while she searched their surroundings for a familiar landmark. How far was she from Mammi Lee’s? Ten miles? Maybe fifteen?

  Another groan made her skin crawl, and she studied the ground. Bay’s hoofs shifted and trod the thick grass, leaving clear imprints.

  The moon’s glow revealed other horse tracks, and Sadie feared it was time to bolt from the area. But she directed Bay to follow the beaten path. The tracks continued for a short distance, then made a circle and went back in the same direction.

  On the horizon she saw a shadowy figure. Was that an animal? Yes, it might even be a bridled horse standing at the edge of the field near a patch of woods. Although her curiosity was piqued, she wasn’t about to go near that area to check it out. With fear rising, she nudged Bay into a gallop toward the creek.

  Once there, Sadie risked a glance behind her. She didn’t consider herself a coward. How many women went out by themselves at night for the sheer joy of it? Yet here she was, running home simply because she’d heard a groan in the darkness and seen something that looked like a bridled horse in silhouette.

  Unable to shake free of her fear and yet chiding herself for being so skittish, she clicked her tongue and tugged on the right rein until Bay headed back toward the sound.

  “Hello?” She peered into the woods, watching for any sign of life. Other than the animal she’d seen earlier—whether cow, deer, or horse—she saw no movement.

  As she neared the creature, it whinnied and backed up. Definitely a horse. Reins dangled from the bit to the ground, but it wasn’t tethered to anything.

  She dismounted. “Begreiflich.” Easy.

  She made several attempts to get closer, but the horse kept backing away. “Gut Gaul. Kumm.” The horse calmed a bit, ears perked to listen to Sadie’s low voice. When Sadie drew close, she took hold of a dangling rein to keep the animal from running off.

  “Begreiflich,” she repeated softly as she ran her hand down the horse’s leg. She didn’t feel any broken bones. “Where’s your rider?”

  Peering into the woods, she looked for any sign of another person, a moving shadow or something. When she saw nothing out of the ordinary, she looked across the field. The grass stood at least a foot tall, high and thick enough to conceal a body. She didn’t like the idea of hunting for someone, but even so, she tethered the stray horse to a low-hanging branch, mounted Bay, and followed the tracks in the grass.

  She moved slowly, searching the area. Just beyond where the tracks ended, she saw a shadowy lump in the grass. She nudged the horse forward, one step at a time. The desire to flee overwhelmed her, but she paused a few feet from the mass, studying it through the darkness.

  A man.

  She got off her horse and crouched, realizing the man wore Amish clothing.

  “Hello?” She patted his face, but he remained motionless. “Hello? Can you hear me?” She spoke in clear English, hoping not to reveal her Amish accent. If word of how she was dressed leaked back to Mammi Lee’s community, her Daed’s patience with her would go from thin to nonexistent.

  How can you think about yourself right now?

  She had to get help. Where had she seen the last house—two, maybe three miles back? Looking across the land, she realized afresh how turned around she was.

  “Can you hear me?” When he didn’t budge, she pressed two fingers against his neck. His pulse met her fingertips, and relief exploded in her, feeling much like fireworks themselves. “Please wake up.”

  Regardless of his being Amish, she patted his pants pockets, hoping he had a phone. He didn’t, and she again checked his pulse.

  His face turned toward her, and he lowered his jaw as if responding to her touch. He moaned, startling her.

  Excitement suddenly soared in her, and she was tempted to double her fists and jab them into the air. Instead, she placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb across it.

  “Stay calm and try not to move. I need to get help.”

  She studied her surroundings. A silhouette of massive trees was in the distance, a dirt road lay a few hundred feet away, and a fence line stood to the west. But where was the closest house?

  He raised a hand toward her. “Please …”

  He said something more, but she couldn’t hear him. She lowered her ear to his mouth.

  “If you can help me get up …”

  She started to put her hand in his, but something about it didn’t feel right, and she lowered her hand. “Not yet.”

  “Please.”

  “Stay still.” She took his hand in hers, and he clutched it firmly as she lowered it to his side, allowing him to hold it. “We’re doing this my way.”

  His eyes opened, staring at her with disbelief. Then his eyes closed, and his hand released its grip on hers.

  She patted his face. “Hello?” Nothing. Now what? While trying to think what to do, she saw his fingers moving. “Hello?” She slapped his face a little harder.

  “My …” The whispered word trailed off.

  “Do you know where we are?” She lowered her ear to his mouth again.

  “Phone.”

  “You have a phone?”

  He didn’t respond to her, and she got on her hands and knees, patting the ground around him.

  Nothing.

  A lot of unmarried Amish men and women carried cell phones. They weren’t forbidden from doing so until they joined the church, but even then more and more of the younger generation kept them close.

  She fumbled through the tall grass. “God, my most trusted friend, please, You know where his phone is. Help me, please.” With the darkness of the night and the height and thickness of the grass, she could be within a hair of putting her hand on it and never see it.

  Then a buzzing sound came from nowhere, and she focused all her senses on it. She followed the noise, going one direction and then another. She panicked. What if it stopped before she could find it? She listened intently. Pleas
e, God …

  There! That’s where the sound was coming from! She hurried, thrilled as the buzz grew louder. She spotted a blue glow in the grass and ran toward it. After snatching the phone from the thick growth, she dialed 911 and then ran back to the man.

  After a few rings a female voice said something she couldn’t make out.

  “There’s a man down in a field.” Sadie knelt and nudged the man, hoping for another response, but he didn’t budge. “I think he was thrown from a horse.”

  “Is he conscious?”

  “He was for a few moments but not now.”

  “Is he breathing?”

  She knelt beside him and pressed her fingers on his neck again. “He has a pulse.”

  “Is he bleeding?”

  Sadie checked the ground around him. “I don’t think so.”

  “What’s your location?”

  “I … I don’t know. I’m somewhere in Apple Ridge, Pennsylvania.”

  “Is there a street sign near you?”

  “I’m in the middle of a field. There’s a road a few hundred feet away, but there’s no intersection with a street sign for miles. I’d have to ride my horse to find out.” She started to get up, but the man moaned.

  Sadie’s heart pounded. “When he woke, he asked me to help him get up. If he would wake up again, I could get him on a horse and get him to his family, a place with a known add—”

  “Ma’am, do not move him! Don’t move any part of him. If he begins to stir, you need to keep him still. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” But what if he awoke and wanted to get up? How was Sadie supposed to make this man obey her?

  “If he wakes, try to keep him conscious, and do what you can to keep him warm. But he must remain lying exactly where he is. Can you check his pockets for identification without moving him?”

  What difference does it make who he is? Cupping the phone between her chin and her shoulder, she did as the woman asked, but there was no sign of a wallet. She hovered over his face. “Hello?”

  His breathing altered, and the fingers on one hand moved.

  “Do you know where we are?”