Abigail might even enjoy painting animals. It’d be something quiet and enjoyable to do, unlike the endless job of darning his holey socks. He couldn’t imagine how that was fun.
And it would save him time while also helping get the order ready that much faster…
He shut the door to his workshop, flicked the pitiful space heaters on, and grabbed a block of wood. The obvious first step would be to finish the train. He needed three more cars for this one, then seven cars, an engine, and a caboose for the other train. The animals could come after the trains were finished. He glanced at the partially completed train. If he focused, he should be able to make all three cars in very rough form today. The sanding and carving and assembly would take longer. But once the pieces were cut, he could then sit on a stool to focus on the detail work.
Focus.
Levi gave a soft snort. How was he supposed to focus, knowing that Elsie was in his house, so close but oh so far away? That she’d been in this very room? That she had left half of her candy cane here on an unfinished boxcar? And it was still there, reminding him of Elsie. And her kisses. How was he supposed to work, knowing she willingly was in his arms last night, exchanging kiss for kiss?
His body heated.
This was not going to work. Not at all.
Something creaked, and Levi clutched the rectangular wood block tighter and swung around, half expecting to see Elsie standing there in the open doorway, candy cane in hand, ready to have that talk she said they needed to have. The conversation he beyond dreaded.
She wasn’t there. Good, because he didn’t have the energy for her right now. Nothing would be resolved, because there was no atonement for his sins. He could confess everything to her, but what good would it do? She still wouldn’t understand and would want to solve his many problems, and he was mentally too exhausted to even attempt to find the words he needed.
With a sigh of relief he turned to get back to work.
Another creak. Closer.
Had he just not seen her? He looked again.
The door was closed, just the way he’d left it. No Elsie was in the room with him. No one was.
He was alone.
Except for another creak of a floorboard.
Creepy.
Levi clutched the wooden block, strode over to the door, and swung it wide open.
“Don’t hit me!” An elderly Amishman, face obscured by a black scarf and wielding a cane, shrieked in terror and threw a small metal toolbox he’d held in his other hand at Levi. It fell with a clatter and opened, spewing tools all over the barn floor. He swung the cane at Levi’s lower leg. It connected with a not-very-painful thump.
What? He wouldn’t hit anybody. Levi held out the block of wood.
The man—Levi thought he recognized the fear-filled eyes and the gray beard hanging below the scarf—bellowed and swung the cane again. Harder.
This time the cane hit with a not-so-satisfying—and very painful—crack. It probably left a bruise.
The man let the now-broken cane drop as he whipped his scarf off and held it out like a shield or as if he were a matador in a bullfight. And Levi recognized him.
“George?”
“Now look what you’ve done!” the semiretired buggy repairman shouted. He only knew one volume. Loud.
“I can make you a new cane,” Levi said. It’d be a whole lot easier than making a train.
“What’s that? A new game?” George cupped his ear.
“Cane!” Levi nudged the broken one with the foot connected to his injured leg. It hurt to move.
George frowned. “Came? Why, because when I was in town I heard you needed a train. There’s only one reason to need a train and that’s because your buggy is broken. And I fix buggies!” George yelled.
That explained the toolbox.
Levi rubbed the base of his neck. His head ached worse. And he didn’t know how to explain to George that his buggy wasn’t broken. It just seemed easier to accept than to attempt a shouted and sure-to-be-misunderstood explanation.
He held up his finger in a silent “wait a minute” and hobbled into his workshop to grab a walking stick he was planning to sell come springtime. He handed it to George, then knelt to gather the scattered tools. George pointed to each with the walking stick and shouted directions on precisely where to place it in the toolbox.
Hopefully, George wouldn’t want much money for “fixing” a not-broken buggy. And it would give George the attention he craved—according to Levi’s daed—when George broadcasted his rather-doubtful and paid-for good deed around the community. Of course, he wouldn’t mention the doubtful or paid-for parts. Just the good deed.
On the positive side, this unplanned—and unwanted—visit served to take Levi’s mind off of the also unplanned and unwanted deaths of his family members, as well as Elsie’s presence, which somehow triggered all the other memories and thoughts running through his mind. Not to mention the desire…
And with lightning-flash speed, they all returned. He groaned.
Thankfully, George didn’t hear.
Levi looked up as he picked up the last tool. Movement in the open barn doors caught his attention. A figure darted out of sight. He closed the toolbox, handed it to George, and went to investigate.
And there was Elsie, speed walking back to the house, skirt swaying.
Levi let her go, but, heart pounding, he watched every step.
He’d talk to her about spying later.
Except, that was in the job description of an elf.
* * *
The best-laid plans of mice and men, Elsie thought as she hurried through the cold to the house. Mamm always quoted that line, though Elsie had no clue where she’d gotten it from. Did mice actually make plans?
No matter. The point was that all her plans to help Abigail first had been for naught. Abigail had wanted to be left alone while she did dishes and laundry and pointed Elsie to the loft office.
It was a good vantage point for watching the barn, so she was able to see an elderly Amish man skulking around the barn. And jah, she probably shouldn’t have followed him, but she arrived in time to witness the fatal blow to the cane. She’d smothered a gasp, but seriously, why was George beating Levi, and why did Levi take it without a word? Although, to be fair, turning the other cheek was grilled into them, and Levi usually was just plain nice.
Unless he was avoiding her.
Or accusing her of lashing out irrationally.
She went inside the warm house and checked the fire. Abigail was singing in a back room. Elsie poured herself a mug of hot peppermint tea, then hurried to the loft. She might not be able to save Levi from the cane-whacking George, but hopefully she could save him from this death by paper pile.
She sighed as she returned her attention to the loft office disaster. Another of Mamm’s sayings came to mind. Things always get worse before they get better. That was certainly true of this office. She’d started sorting the papers in piles on the floor by business or customer name. What a mess! There were so many different piles she couldn’t move without stepping on something.
Impressing him with her organizational powers wouldn’t be happening today.
She opened the file cabinet and cheered. It was conveniently empty, except for an unopened box of multicolored hanging file folders, but it wouldn’t be for long. She opened the box, scooped up a colorful blue folder, labeled it with the name on one of the piles, and hung it on the thin metal bars. She’d organize by date later. This part had to come first.
She’d barely made a dent in the mess when a door shut downstairs. She peeked outside. George’s buggy was still there. Maybe Abigail needed something. Elsie headed for the ladder stairs but stopped when Levi appeared in the opening.
His eyes met hers for a too-brief moment then swept across the messier mess of his office. His brow furrowed, a muscle worked in his jaw, but to his credit he let a minute tick by before he opened his mouth.
“Have you, um, seen my checkboo
k?” His gaze seemed doubtful as it shifted back to Elsie. “George fixed my buggy.”
Elsie glanced around and spied the checkbook on the desk. “I didn’t know it was broken,” she said, then grimaced. Of course she didn’t know it was broken. Levi had no reason to think she needed to know everything.
Something flickered in Levi’s eyes. “I didn’t, either,” he said. “But he says it’s fixed now. At least I hope he didn’t break it.” He shrugged.
That was a concern. Elsie had heard rumors that George’s mind was slipping. His wife had said something about early stages of dementia. Elsie swung around, grabbed the checkbook and a pen, and handed both to Levi.
He took them but lingered. “Why aren’t you helping Abigail? She needs help. That’s mainly what I hired you for.”
“She said she wanted to be alone and told me to start up here.” Elsie lowered her voice. “I think she wanted to daydream about Noah.”
Levi frowned. “I was afraid of that.” He sighed heavily.
Elsie bristled but took a couple of deep, calming breaths. “Noah is a good man, Levi.”
Levi hesitated another moment. “Jah. I’m sure he is, but—”
“Let her dream. She’s a normal teenage girl.”
There was another long silence; then he nodded. “You’re right. Of course. I’ll let her dream. I’ll…I’ll just go”—he looked down at the checkbook—“pay George.”
“You do that,” Elsie said.
He looked up again, his gaze skimming over her, then lingering for a heart-pounding moment on her lips.
She resisted the urge to lick them.
There was a troubled light in his eyes when he raised them to meet hers. “Did you smuggle peppermint in?”
She attempted to look innocent. “Who, me?”
His lips flickered ever so briefly. “Jah, you.”
“Couldn’t be. You told me no candy.” She tried to keep a grin at bay at the memory of another cotton ball dab with peppermint essential oil that morning.
“Then who? I smell peppermint.”
“Maybe because you want to,” she teased.
His gaze lowered to her lips again. Then he shook his head. “No. Couldn’t be.”
Was she that repulsive? The smile that’d been flirting died as he backed down the ladder.
* * *
It couldn’t be, but it was true. Levi wanted to kiss her again with every fiber of his body.
Instead, he carried the checkbook and pen through the house and tried not to breathe. It was impossible, but it seemed the scent of peppermint permeated the air, filling the entire house. Did he subconsciously want to smell peppermint so badly he imagined it?
He went into the barn, found George, and wrote a check, trying to ignore the various buggy parts strewn all over the floor. It was just one more thing Levi needed to do. Fix the buggy George just “fixed.” George probably needed the money anyway. His house and his health were both falling into disrepair.
George pocketed the check with a big smile. “Now there’s no reason for you to take the train,” he shouted.
If only. Levi managed a weak smile—or something he hoped resembled a smile. It’d been so long the movement felt strange to his facial muscles. “It’s puzzling how you…” He was going to say something about George’s bad ears and yet his surprising ability to hear Mark’s comment since Mark never raised his voice, but that’d probably be rude.
“Suffering, you say?” George yelled as he patted Levi’s forearm. “Suffering is a part of life. I’ve never met a strong person who hasn’t suffered.”
Levi attempted another polite smile but froze. Wait. That was actually a nugget of wisdom worth pondering. He’d definitely become stronger by being forced to step up to the plate and care for himself and Abigail. Though probably George referred to something else entirely. He never could tell with George.
George patted Levi’s arm again. “Call me if you have any more trouble with your buggy. I fix buggies, you know. Beats having to take a bus or a train.”
Levi looked at the scattered miscellaneous parts on the dusty floor. Somehow he managed to keep his mouth shut and acknowledge George with a nod. But really Levi wanted to cry. Why hadn’t he thought of writing a note to explain things to George? Or taking him into the workshop to show him the train? Why did he think of these things too late?
George grabbed the walking stick Levi had given him, picked up the toolbox, and headed outside. Levi gathered the spare parts and his own toolbox, checked to make sure George was gone, then shimmied under the buggy to finish fixing it. Despite his stalled creativity, at least he had a reason to stay busy out here.
Sometime later, he put the toolbox away and dusted off his backside, satisfied that the buggy was fixed to the best of his ability. He was glad he took the time because at least one of the wheels would’ve come off on the road.
He needed a hot mug of coffee to motivate himself to get back to work on the train, but he’d lost the whole morning, due to the semiretired buggy repairman. He’d get the coffee to go. And then he wouldn’t have to see Elsie.
Levi scurried toward the house and opened the door to two lined cookie sheets filled with homemade peppermint patties. Two smiling females. A house filled with the scent of the mint.
And the overwhelming desire to kiss a certain someone senseless.
Chapter 11
Elsie had seriously needed a break from all the paperwork. Her eyes were burning. Too bad she’d forgotten her reading glasses. Or rather, not forgotten, but had been too proud to bring them and let Levi see a sign of weakness. Maybe not weakness, but imperfection.
Silly of her, really. She was far from perfect.
She’d wanted to look pretty for him, too.
Especially since he’d never seen her with glasses, and what if it repelled him?
At least she’d know. Tomorrow, if she still had a job, she’d bring her glasses.
Besides, if she focused on Levi’s healing and her future in Chicago, it didn’t matter if glasses repelled him.
It’d been a blessing when an hour ago Abigail called for her and suggested they do something fun. And Abigail had been the one to suggest peppermint patties. She claimed they were Levi’s favorite…or used to be back when—whenever “back when” was—and she wanted to soften him up for a conversation they needed to have. She wouldn’t say about what. It was none of Elsie’s business anyway.
Levi strode past the porch window. Elsie’s heart pounded.
The door opened. He stepped inside.
And froze, his gaze fixed on the table.
The moment of truth had arrived.
Elsie figured she’d be the one blamed for the peppermint patties—and maybe she should be. She’d bought the bottle of flavoring. Not imitation, either. The real stuff.
Jah, she wanted him to think about kissing her.
She’d told him to let Abigail dream, but maybe she shouldn’t have. Abigail could end up getting hurt.
Elsie would be hurt if she dared to dream. No doubt about that. And not because of Abigail’s dreams, but because of her own. Levi had made it more than clear that while he may want to kiss her, he wasn’t interested in renewing their relationship.
She wasn’t interested in becoming his plaything. Well, maybe she was, but only within the confines of marriage.
And therein was the problem. Marriage wasn’t in their future.
No. Her job was to help him heal so he could find happiness with some other woman.
That hurt.
Her future was life without her family and friends in Chicago. That hurt, too. But at least she’d have Sam and Sammy and she’d make friends. Eventually.
She wished she could run back to the eye-burning paperwork, but she needed to get the candy on the waxed paper-lined baking sheets and into the refrigerator to chill.
“Peppermint patties?” Levi asked, his voice strangled.
“Abigail said that they’re your favorite.” Elsie nibbled he
r bottom lip. Maybe she could invent a reason to escape the kitchen…
“They used to be.” He lingered in the doorway.
Abigail looked up from a recipe card she was reading. She frowned. “Used to be? Not anymore?”
“I haven’t had them since the…the last Christmas we had with the family. Elsie brought them over for everyone, along with a gift just for me.” His voice broke.
Oh. Elsie slid another peppermint patty onto the baking sheet. She hadn’t meant to stir up bad memories. Or to hurt him. But it was Abigail’s idea to make them. Elsie had provided the ingredients, though. Should she go hide in the bathroom for a while? Just to get away from the tension?
“We need to talk.” Abigail placed the recipe card on the table and fixed her gaze on Levi.
He paled. His gaze skittered from the candy to his sister to Elsie then back to Abigail. “Now? With her here?” He glanced back at Elsie. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Just that it’s private. I think.”
Abigail nodded.
Elsie stepped away from the table. She wasn’t wanted? At least not for this conversation, whatever it was about. “I’ll be in the loft.”
“I’ll call you when we finish,” Abigail promised.
Levi came closer to the table and handed Elsie the checkbook. He seemed to try to be careful not to touch her, but despite his efforts their fingers brushed. Sparks flared. “Is there any coffee made?”
“Peppermint tea,” Elsie said with a slight grin. Then she fled from the room, her face burning. She’d made it for herself and not him, but still…
How unintentionally obvious could she get?
* * *
Levi watched her go before he glanced back at his sister. “Tea?” He wouldn’t use the word peppermint again. Was Elsie doing the peppermint thing on purpose to keep him thinking of her and wanting to kiss her? “Do you mind if I make coffee?”
“I’ll get you some. There’s still some left from this morning, since Elsie isn’t a coffee drinker. You go wash up. I’m going to check on the pretzel dough I have raising.”
“Pretzels, too?” Levi’s mouth watered. He loved Abigail’s pretzels. He nodded and backtracked long enough to take off his shoes, coat, and hat; then he headed for the bathroom to scrub up.
The Amish Christmas Gift Page 9