The Amish Christmas Gift

by Laura V. Hilton

  Time to focus. They’d broken up. Were history. No chance of reconciliation. He hefted the boxes into his arms. What was his ex-girlfriend delivering anyway? He turned and almost dropped the boxes when he nearly ran into Elsie. Despite his earlier objections, she lifted the smaller, top box from his arms. And even though fabric covered his skin, he burned from her light, fleeting touch.

  “They’re heavy. I’ll take one,” she said.

  “Don’t you think I’m man enough to handle it?” His voice was husky.

  Her face flamed red. She dipped her head as she turned away. “I know you are,” she whispered.

  He pressed his lips together to smother a groan and gripped the box tighter to keep from reaching for her. It was a good thing Elsie had a job at Zooks’ because he would go literally insane if she worked for him.

  He’d be tempted to do ever so much more than candy-cane-kiss.

  * * *

  Elsie was way too conscious of the handsome man following her into his house. She still remembered the way his brown hair curled at his neck and around his ears. His always-serious gray eyes that used to darken with desire when he wanted to kiss her. Not a good thing to think about eighteen months after they broke up.

  The screen door squeaked on its hinges as Abigail held the door open. She watched them as they approached, a secretive smile playing on her lips as if she alone knew something tantalizingly delicious. Elsie couldn’t imagine what it might be. Except, the hot soup she’d promised was getting cold and Elsie had a good excuse not to go home quite yet.

  Elsie walked past Abigail and placed her box on top of the one Levi had set down earlier. Then she moved out of his way, glancing at the table. Three soup bowls waited, two of them already filled. A loaf of homemade bread was partially sliced, and a plastic tub of butter waited in the center of the table.

  “How can I help?” she asked.

  “If you aren’t moving in, what’s in the boxes?” Levi asked at the same time.

  “I told you already.” Elsie turned.

  “I must’ve forgotten. Either that or I didn’t hear you.” Levi stared at her; his mouth flatlined. He rarely, if ever, smiled anymore. Not since his family died. His two brothers, a sister, his grossdaadi, and his parents. It hurt Elsie’s heart. But there was nothing she could do to ease his grief or his burdens.

  “Food,” she said. “From our over-full pantry. Vegetables are in the bottom box, fruits are in the top one, and meats, pickled eggs, salsas, chowchow, and jams and jellies are in the middle.”

  He blinked at her. “Why? I mean, why now? Actually, why at all? We’re nobody to you. At least, now we are.” A touch of bitterness colored his voice. A hardness in his expression.

  “Levi!” Abigail hissed.

  The food gift wasn’t welcome? Elsie stared at him. What did he mean why? Should she offer to take the food back home?

  “Well, it’s true,” he said. His gaze landed on his sister. His expression softened. “You and I both know that the church and community abandoned us when the rest of our family died. When Elsie and I broke up.”

  Ouch. It hurt to know what he thought. But come to think of it, it was true. Or not, because Elsie had seen men in the district approach Levi on multiple occasions and he’d practiced his avoidance skills on them, too. And how many times had Bishop Nathan asked her daed and both of her grandfathers to pray with him about how to best reach Levi? Maybe he’d lost his ability to welcome expressions of care and concern from their church district.

  She opened her mouth to tell him just that but then caught the sheen of tears in Abigail’s eyes. Elsie snapped her lips together. Daed was trying to encourage her to think before she spoke. To keep harsh words unsaid. Something she should’ve done instead of breaking up with the only man she’d ever loved.

  The man she’d reconcile with in a heartbeat.

  The man she’d never have. She needed to focus on her plan—well, her oldest brother’s plan. Her future.

  Levi sighed, his focus shifting to Elsie. “Danki. We appreciate it.”

  The words were right, and the tone nice enough, but there was a note of insincerity as if he was just saying them because it was the polite thing to do.

  Abigail huffed and glared at her brother.

  Okay, then. And on that note…Elsie forced a smile. “Well, danki for inviting me for supper, but I really must be going. It’s been a long day and—”

  “You. Are. Staying.” Abigail’s glare transferred to Elsie. “I have chocolate and…” She sniffled. The glare faded and the sheen of tears returned. “And please stay even though the soup is no longer hot.”

  “Please,” Levi echoed, sounding more sincere than he had before.

  Elsie stifled a sigh. Abigail was probably lonely. And it wasn’t her fault Elsie interrupted supper. “Okay.”

  “I’ll reheat the soup.” Abigail reached for a full bowl.

  “I’ll reheat the soup,” Elsie offered. It’d be awkward for Abigail to carry full bowls of soup on her lap in a wheelchair, and she needed to be helpful. Elsie carried the bowls over. “It is brutally cold out there and the ice cream delivery guys said something about an ice storm being predicted.” Ugh, that sounded stilted.

  “It’s in the extended forecast. The Englisch men I worked for today mentioned it. Also something about a blizzard following it,” Levi said as he belatedly shut the door.

  The ice cream guys had sounded like it was for that evening. But men who would defraud a store owner probably could easily lie about a storm, too.

  Elsie took her sweater off and hung it on the hook next to Levi’s jacket, then placed her bonnet over it. She hurried over to the stove to reheat the soup—including what had already been dished out—while Levi carried each of the three boxes over to the pantry. Abigail unpacked them and placed them on the almost-empty shelves, exclaiming over each jar. Elsie felt better about the gift being welcomed. It also was nice to make sure they had food to eat.

  But standing in Levi Wyse’s kitchen while he and Abigail puttered and Elsie warmed supper made it almost seem as if they were a family and she was part of it.

  Dangerous thoughts when she was still in love with the man.

  Even more dangerous when she planned to leave.

  * * *

  Levi could get used to this. His sister and his Elsie—who wasn’t truly his—working in the same kitchen. But watching Abigail so carefully unpack each jar from the box and acting as if they were Christmas gifts hurt. Jah, he was a terrible shopper. He usually lost the lists she so carefully wrote out and just went on memory—when he remembered to go—so he was more miss than hit when he brought groceries home. Hopefully, Abigail would have another idea who to ask to work for them. Maybe a couple of ideas in case the first person said no.

  Or in case the first person got any silly ideas in her head about marrying him.

  In the first place, he was off the market. His heart belonged to—and always would belong to—Elsie Miller. When she broke up with him, it was proof positive that he’d never marry. In the second place, he couldn’t wed anyone, because he’d killed his family. Accidentally, to be sure, but he’d murdered them just the same. And murder—according to Levi’s understanding of the story of Cain and Abel in Genesis—made Levi an outcast, undeserving of a family. It cursed him to eternity in hell.

  Not that anyone blamed him, but the bishop and the preachers didn’t know he’d discovered the strong odor of gas in the air and had gone out to work in the barn anyway instead of telling his family to turn off all the gas appliances. If he would’ve backtracked and told Daed…But he hadn’t, thinking someone else would notice. Or maybe that the gas company had spilled some since the odor came only from the tank area outside. He hadn’t even thought of it until it was too late.

  And because he hadn’t…He glanced at his sister, sitting in the wheelchair. His only surviving family member.

  His fault.

  He gulped at the stubborn lump clogging his airways and fo
rced his mind away from those disturbing thoughts. They usually filled his night hours because he tried to stay too busy to think during the day.

  “Soup’s hot,” Elsie sang.

  He turned toward the table. Jah, it was good Elsie had a job because if she were his elf, he’d go stark raving mad.

  And he’d rekindle the impossibility of a hoped-for and much-desired relationship.

  Best to leave things as they were.

  Chapter 5

  Elsie peeled the paper liner from the chocolatey goodness waiting for her. Chocolate might not fix her problems, but it might help to minimize the despair weighing down on her. Daed expected her to help carry her portion of the family finances and that meant having a job and handing her earnings over to him to work into the household budget.

  A budget that was strained with her current inability to find and keep a job.

  Beside her, Abigail moaned as she bit into her cupcake. “This is heaven. Danki for thinking to buy us cocoa, Elsie.”

  Levi grunted. The only sound he’d made during the entire meal. Other than “Let’s pray” and “Amen.” Abigail had carried the bulk of the conversation, chattering about everything and nothing. He removed the paper liner from his cupcake and ate half of it in one bite.

  “It is good,” Elsie agreed after taking a nibble. “You’re a good baker.”

  Abigail shrugged, something melancholy filling her expression.

  Levi shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth. “Excuse me,” he muttered, getting to his feet.

  “Sit down. We need to talk.” Abigail pointed to his chair.

  “I have chores,” he said. “And toy orders to fill.”

  “Elsie was fired from Zooks’,” Abigail blurted.

  Elsie winced.

  Levi paled and plopped back into his chair. His mouth gaped as he stared at Elsie. “How did you manage that?”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Abigail said at the same time. She beamed.

  Elsie closed her eyes and wished the floor would open up and swallow her. How could Abigail call it wonderful? It was awful. Beyond awful. Terrible. Horrible. And to just blurt it out to Levi…She couldn’t imagine what he thought of her. He probably was counting his blessings that he hadn’t married her. She opened her eyes and peeked up to see his nonverbal reaction.

  “Seriously? What on earth did you do? He just hired you today!” And with those words, Levi snapped his mouth shut. He just looked at her, silent a minute or two, then turned to his spluttering sister. “You! How did you manage this?”

  Huh? Elsie blinked. He blamed Abigail? Why?

  Abigail giggled. “I prayed. I wanted Elsie. She’s perfect.”

  “Hardly perfect, but what are you talking about?” Elsie stared at Abigail. “You prayed I’d get fired?”

  “Santa Claus needs an elf.” Abigail beamed as if that explained everything.

  It didn’t. Not even remotely.

  “Perfect,” Levi murmured. “Just perfect.” He bowed his head and shut his eyes as if he were praying. Then he flexed his hands.

  Elsie was familiar with the fancy, jolly, big, red man, but as a rule most Amish didn’t celebrate him. Maybe some of the more liberal districts gave him a nod. Maybe. So what did Santa needing an elf have to do with her? Even if the hired Santas seen at stores or malls needed an elf, there was no way the church leaders would be okay with her donning a green tunic, tights, and shoes with curled-up toes.

  “My daed would never allow me to dress up as an elf,” she said. “And even if he did, I’d feel too self-conscious. But danki for thinking of me.”

  Levi snorted.

  Abigail giggled again. “No. You misunderstand. Tell her, Levi.”

  Levi fell silent, fisting and unclenching his big hands. His eyes turned to Abigail, a helpless, lost expression appearing on his face.

  Abigail waited a beat or two as if hoping Levi would say something before she looked at Elsie. “The Englischers in town call Levi ‘Santa’ because he makes toys. He needs an elf.”

  Elsie frowned. That still didn’t make any sense. “So…?” But wait. That’s what was in the box? Toys? That explained the memo line on the check, too. To Santa…

  “Abigail wants you. I…uh, we…want you.” Levi’s troubled gaze turned to Elsie.

  “Daed still won’t let me wear an elf costume.”

  Levi’s gray eyes darkened as he gave her a slow perusal, possibly imagining her in said costume. Then they rose and caught hers. Held them.

  Her body heated at the unbridled desire she saw in his eyes. Her lips tingled, heart pounded, and she caught her breath. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all. Maybe there might be hope for them. Hope for a future together. If she didn’t keep her promise to go with Sam to Chicago. And that ripped at her—promises versus her heart’s desire, a job in an office versus being a wife and mother. If she were Englisch, she could have it all. As an Amish woman, not so much.

  Levi tore his gaze away and the heat left, leaving her chilled. Rejected. But she could think again. What were they talking about? Right, elves and toys. “And I don’t make toys.” Her voice came out breathless.

  Abigail looked back and forth between them. “Jah, we want you,” she whispered. Then she cleared her throat. “What we need is an office manager, someone who gets and keeps Levi organized, a housekeeper who helps me, and someone to do the grocery shopping.”

  “And we’ll pay you,” Levi croaked.

  “Basically, a, um, wife. Except one who goes home at night,” Abigail chirped.

  Elsie’s face burned. “A wife?”

  * * *

  “A wife?” Levi spluttered. “You had to go there?” He looked toward Elsie, hoping she understood what he couldn’t say about the impossibility of marriage. “We need an office manager and housekeeper. Not a wife. We—you and I—will never see each other. Never. Abigail will hand over your wages. If you take the job, that is.” He stood, walked around the table, then strode over to the door and shoved his feet into his shoes. Then he stilled, hand on the knob, and bowed his head, praying for grace, for mercy, for…help.

  Maybe for divine intervention. If Gott cared enough to help him out of this mess.

  “So you want me to organize Levi,” Elsie said, as if he’d already left the room.

  He stiffened. But organization. Jah, he needed that. It might help him keep his head above water, instead of worrying about when the next hit would come. Wondering if he’d made a payment on all the outstanding medical bills or if he’d forgotten one. Worrying about the state stepping in and taking Abigail from him even though she was seventeen and he was her sole remaining relative.

  “He loses everything. He can’t even find an eraser when he needs one,” Abigail confided.

  Truth, but it still hurt. Although Abigail had no idea about the stress he was constantly under. Or that he was literally burning the candle at both ends.

  “Don’t I know it. He lost me before.”

  Levi sucked in a breath. The reason for their breakup. But she didn’t sound bitter. And he hadn’t realized she’d felt “lost” just like an eraser or his shopping list. As if she didn’t matter enough to him.

  Abigail giggled. “Do tell.”

  “It’s his story to tell.” Elsie’s voice held a strange note. One he couldn’t identify.

  And she didn’t know the story because he’d never told her. But she didn’t need to know since they were no longer a couple. He turned his head. Abigail’s back was to him.

  Elsie met his gaze. “I’ll take the job,” she said, a hint of challenge in her eyes.

  Fantastic. He swallowed. He needed her. And Abigail was right. Elsie was perfect. He nodded. “You can start tomorrow if it’s okay.”

  Abigail startled. “I thought you left.” She swung the wheelchair in a tight semicircle. “You can take her on a quick tour. So she knows where to start tomorrow. And we never did discuss her hours and wages.”

  Levi coughed to cover up a groan. But his
office was in the second-floor loft and Abigail couldn’t go up there. His workshop was in the barn and she rarely ventured out there.

  “Follow me,” he muttered. He led the way through the living room, with its one end table and a recliner, to a short hallway that led to the two bedrooms. He stopped at the entrance. “Abigail’s room is on the left, mine is on the right. Bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

  Elsie continued down the hall and peeked into the rooms as he turned to head back. He didn’t want to see her standing in his bedroom doorway. That would be pure torture. He waited at the foot of the steep, ladderlike loft stairway in the living room, built against the side of the outside wall.

  She finally joined him.

  “Be careful. I’d hate for you to fall.” He motioned for her to go first.

  She gave him a look and scampered up. Of course, because she was raised on a farm and her family barn had a loft. He tried not to focus on her climbing to his private domain.

  Tried but failed. Oh, what she did to him…

  He took a breath and followed her up.

  She reached the top, stepped into the room, and gasped.

  He stopped on the top rung and peered past her.

  Somehow, the mess seemed worse than he remembered.

  Haphazard stacks of papers were piled on the floor and covered the surface of the desk, and he didn’t need to look to know the file cabinet was empty.

  She had her job cut out for her.

  Oh! And there on the floor under the desk was his missing eraser.

  * * *

  This was unreal. A nightmare. It had to be. How could Levi get any work done in such an environment?

  “Excuse me,” he said.

  She moved out of his way as he stepped up on the loft floor. He headed straight for his desk, got down on his knees, and reached to retrieve something.

  “My missing eraser.” He turned to sit cross-legged on the floor and held the object up, then set it on the desk. “Have a seat on the chair. We’ll have a brief chat before I show you the wood shop.”